Bad Boys Online

Chapter One

"I want to lick your nipples until you…"

Kindra jumped in her swivel seat as a low voice spoke over her shoulder.

Please don't let that be who she thought it was.

She turned. It was. "Ohmigod. Mack!"

"Whipping the mouse around on her desktop, she tried frantically to close the e-mail that was up on her computer screen. The dirty e-mail from her cyber partner, Russ. The dirty e-mail that was being read by her real live crush and coworker, Mack Stone.

God, where was the minimize button?

"Come like a rocket, hot and wet…" Mack's amused voice trailed off. "What is this?"

"Spam," she managed to say, a sweat breaking out under her white blouse and black jacket. "I get all kinds of junk e-mail."

Kindra clicked the close button as Mack's finger touched the screen.

"Then why does it have your name on it?"

"I don't think it did," she lied without compunction. There was no way she was admitting to Mack "different girlfriend every week" Stone, that she had been engaging in a cyber-affair.

"Yes, it did," he insisted.

Annoyed, she looked over her shoulder at him and gritted her teeth at his total and utter perfection. Why? Why did she have to spend every day for eight hours looking at this paragon of masculinity? From his short black hair, past the strong jaw, down to the broad chest and gorgeous pecs covered in GQ-inspired clothing, and continuing on down lower, he was perfect.

And very out of her league.

She glared at him, willing him to back away from her chair and take his arousing aftershave scent with him.

A grin spread out across his face, showing off perfect white teeth. He probably never even got cavities. "Kindra Hill, are you having cybersex? I never would have guessed."

Her impulse was to just push him out of the way and run down the hall and hide in the ladies' room until he left the building. But that hadn't worked in ninth grade when Tommy Slade had pantsed her in front of her geometry class, and she didn't think it would work now.

Two choices here. Deny. Or brazen it out.

Being a proverbial wallflower, she had never brazened anything out in her life. It was time to try.

Taking a deep breath to gather some courage, she said, "So what if I am?"

Okay, what was meant to sound seductive came out defensive. She sounded like a bitter divorcee who goes through a vibrator battery a week.

His ice blue eyes went wide. "Then I'd say there's more to you than meets the eye."

Then he shook his head, clearly curious. "But I figure, why talk about it online, when you can be doing it live and in person?"

Yeah, if she had him to do it with. But Kindra's choices had never been so appealing. After a few mishaps that had ranged from yawn inspiring to borderline gruesome, she had decided she was better off snuggling up with the blue light on her computer screen every night.

"It's easier this way… safer, cleaner," she mumbled. Then she straightened up and turned back to her computer, on the verge of collapsing from mortification. Had she said that out loud?

She had. Mack leaned over her, his hot breath tickling across her ear. His tie fell forward and brushed against the back of her hair, sending a shiver through her.

"But it's so much more fun the old-fashioned way."

"Sometimes. And sometimes it's messy and complicated and just plain lousy." She gave a shrug that was meant to be worldly and nonchalant, as if she'd sampled men aplenty and found them all lacking. Instead she managed to clip him in the chin.

He grunted. "I think you're wrong."

"I don't care." She scooted forward, away from him. Hint, hint, take it please. Go away and take your hot bod with you.

"I can prove it to you."

She froze. He couldn't possibly mean… no. Mack Stone had never given her the time of day before.

But if he did mean that, did she want to take him up on it? Her head said of course not, you naive and greedy slut. Her inner thighs had an altogether different answer, one that had her pantyhose turning into a mini-oven.

He wasn't serious though.

"I'm serious," he said.

Help.

Kindra opened her mouth, knowing full well her brain had ceased to exist and her crotch was in complete control.

"What kind of proof are you talking about?"

She fought the urge to clap a hand over her mouth.

Now she'd done it.

He'd think she was actually interested.

Which, of course, she was.

But she shouldn't let him know that.

Mack was still leaning over her. He said in a low voice laced with amusement, "I think you know what kind of proof I'm talking about."

Well, she thought he was talking about having sex with her. But if she said it out loud, and she was wrong, she would have to quit her job and move to Europe.

Kindra cleared her throat. "Maybe, if you explain it to me?"

Mack's hands gripped the back of her chair and she found herself slowly being turned around. Since grabbing the desk and clinging for dear life would be rude, she settled for crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap.

Perfect position for a woman claiming to be disinterested in live-action sex.

Except that somehow Mack had managed to place a leg on either side of her chair and his… pants were eye level. Fascinated, she took a long look. Kindra licked her lips. Mack's pants jumped.

Oh, my.

She forced her eyes upward. He no longer looked amused. His legs and other body parts took a large step backward, removing the masculine scent of him from her personal space.

"If I'm going to prove to you that one-on-one sex is better than cybersex, I can only think of one way to do that."

Here it was. It was coming. "Oh?" she squeaked.

Mack nodded, his hands sliding into his pockets. "Yes, that's right, Kindra. It looks like I'm going to have to have sex with you."

Wow. If this was a dream, may she never wake up.

@ Mack watched shock cross Kindra's face and he fought the urge to smile. Because behind the shock, right there in those fascinating green eyes of hers was… interest.

He had her interested.

Strolling into Kindra's office to borrow some software CDs he wanted to install on his computer had been a much better idea than he could have ever anticipated. It was a pure stroke of luck to find her staring intently at her screen, biting her lip as she read a dirty e-mail. An unoriginal dirty e-mail, in his opinion.

He had read about half of it before he had announced his presence by speaking out loud. He would have expected Kindra to blush, but she hadn't, even though she had clearly been flustered.

Kindra Hill was a mystery. One he had been studying for a year, since he had accepted the position at Ohio MicroDesign, a graphic design company in Cleveland. Kindra gave every appearance of being shy and quiet, but when she thought no one was looking, he had been watching her.

Instead of being demure, Kindra rolled her eyes a lot and snorted to herself. She crossed her arms and slouched in her chair when she was alone. If he was quick enough, he could catch her green eyes spitting fire sometimes.

But she always banked it.

And he wanted to know why.

Kindra closed her mouth, then reopened it. Her eyes narrowed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Are you kidding?" Now he was the one in shock. Hadn't she looked in a mirror lately? "What guy wouldn't want to?"

She appeared to mull this over and nodded. "That's probably true. Guys are like that."

Her feet pushed on the floor, inching her chair back farther away from him. "But so you know, to prove what you want to prove, well… you're really going to have your work cut out for you."

Damn. His groin tightened painfully. Somehow he didn't think he'd mind the extra effort. Besides, he had twelve months' worth of spontaneous hard-ons caused by Kindra to ease. He stuck his foot behind the wheel of her chair so it stopped moving.

Gripping each arm of the chair, he bent over and murmured alongside her cheek, "I think I'm up for the challenge."

She shivered and leaned back in her chair as if she needed distance. Her eyes were half closed and Mack reminded himself to ease up. Take it slow.

Kindra wanted this. But he wanted to make sure nothing changed her mind.

Just because he had a year's worth of frustration wasn't a good excuse to throw charm and finesse out the window and just attack her in a fit of adolescent lust.

If he wasn't careful, he would screw up this perfect opportunity. And he didn't want that. What he wanted was to see what Kindra kept hidden under those boxy suits she always wore. He wanted to pull down that hair she kept tightly bound in a clip and see if it really had auburn highlights like he suspected.

He wanted her.

With deliberate steps, he moved a few feet over to her desk and leaned against it. "So, what do you think? Can I prove you wrong? Or are you perfectly satisfied with what you're getting right now?"

He held his breath.

"Well…" She fiddled with the clip on her head, forcing her jacket to rise up a little and give him a hint of her curves.

"So, what did you have in mind?"

Yes. Mack mentally spiked a football in the end zone. "Tonight. Dinner. Then your place."

She would feel safer in her own apartment, he rationalized. More comfortable. And he didn't care where he was as long as he was naked with Kindra.

But her head was shaking no. "I have plans tonight. It's Friday. I bowl in a league on Fridays."

Kindra bowling? That struck him as odd. Maybe because he'd never seen her wearing anything but black or navy suits and high heels.

Bowling was hard for him to understand. You stood there and threw a ball at plastic pins. Now golf was a different story. That was a game.

"Can't you skip tonight?" Damn, he sounded eager. Maybe he should rein that in a little.

"No. My team will lose my score if I don't show. I can't do that."

Fine. It's not like he was in a huge hurry or anything. He wasn't desperate. He'd had plenty lately. Sort of. Well, not really.

And not with Kindra.

He said, "Tomorrow night then?"

She licked her lips again.

Soft, plump lips that were made for kissing and sucking and biting. Lips that would feel fantastic sliding across his cock.

He gritted his teeth in agony.

"Okay," she said, looking as if she'd just been given ten to fifteen years in federal prison. "Tomorrow night."

She wasn't exactly brimming with enthusiasm.

Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought. After all, she was choosing to abstain from sex. There had to be a reason. A reason he had to get around. Even if it took all night.

Speaking of which, that needed to be stated clearly. "You have to guarantee me at least twelve hours to make my case, Kindra."

Kindra blinked. Twelve hours? He was planning on proving it to her for twelve hours? She would have been happy with ten minutes and a wave on his way out.

"Isn't that a little long?"

He was leaning casually against her desk, and when he shifted, his leg brushed against hers. Kindra shivered and re-crossed her legs in the opposite direction to move them away from him.

A slow knowing smile moved across his face. "To get it right, sometimes you need to take it slow. And sometimes it's so good, you want time to do it again."

That hadn't happened yet to Kindra. In her experience, the first time had never been worthy of an encore performance.

A sudden vision of Mack coming at her over and over again for twelve hours, determined to squeak an orgasm out of her, flashed through her head. Maybe this was a really bad idea.

If she slept with Mack and it was just awful, well, then what fantasies would she have left? She didn't even want to count how many times it had been Mack's face she'd pictured when chatting intimately with Russ online.

Plus, if this was a disaster, she would have to see Mack every day in awkward hallway encounters where he would avert his eyes and she would blush. They were designing on the coffeehouse website project together, which put them in each other's company constantly.

It would be horrid, awful, migraine inspiring…

"Kindra."

"Yes?" She shot Mack a panicked look.

"Don't panic. It doesn't have to be twelve hours. It can be as little or as much as you want." He leaned forward and took her hand.

But it wasn't a gentle caress. Or an understanding squeeze. It was a forceful pull. With little effort, he tugged her to her feet. Kindra swallowed hard as he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her up against him.

This couldn't be happening.

She was in her office in the middle of the day wrapped in Mack Stone's arms from neck to calf. His body was as hard as it looked, and she put her hands on his chest to create a barrier between them.

Instead of pushing him away, her traitorous little fingers gripped his crisp dress shirt and rubbed against the solid muscle underneath. His thigh moved across hers restlessly.

"I have this feeling," he whispered, his lips brushing against the lobe of her ear, "that we're not going to need anywhere near twelve hours to prove my point."

His tongue dipped into her ear and Kindra gasped.

"But I think we're going to want twelve hours."

Kindra suddenly wanted a lot of things, most of all Mack to throw her down on her office floor and put his theory to the test right now.

With a whimper, she pushed her waist forward, bumping his erection.

Mack groaned.

Heat surged through her body. She had made Mack Stone groan out loud. Could there be a bigger turn-on?

"Shit," he said fiercely, his hands gripping her shoulders. "I'm going too fast."

Said who?

If she were gutsy, she would grab him and force him to go fast again, but Kindra had never claimed to be gutsy. Not in her career, or her social life, and certainly not when it came to sex.

"I want this to be right," he said, setting her away from him. "After all, I've just promised you the best sex of your life."

Kindra struggled not to collapse on the floor in an anticipatory seizure at Mack's words. She couldn't speak.

She gulped.

Mack rammed his hands in his pocket. Then pulled them back out. "Ah, hell. Are you sure you're busy tonight?"

He looked desperate. He sounded desperate. Mack Stone. Desperate. For her.

The words were on her lips. She was about to say, Screw the bowling and take me, when Kindra's office door flung open. She watched in horror as her friend Ashley walked in.

Ashley took three perky steps before she realized Kindra wasn't alone.

"Oh! Sorry. I didn't know you were in here with Kindra, Mack."

Kindra stood there, inches from Mack, sure her face was a picture of guilt. She might as well have a sign on her forehead saying desperately seeking sex.

Mack gave Ashley a light charming smile. "No problem. Can you just give us a minute alone? Then I'll be out of your way."

Kindra crossed her arms and took a step back. Did Mack have to be so obvious? Long after he had his twelve hours, she had to work with these people. She didn't relish the idea of being office gossip, even if Ashley was a good friend. If he was this obvious in front of Ashley, who else would he embarrass her in front of?

She said tightly, "What did you need, Ashley?"

Ashley looked startled, and smoothed down her wild blond curls. She looked back and forth between the two of them, her eyes wide. "I wanted to see if you were ready to go to lunch."

"I'm ready." Maybe a cool soft drink could douse this fire Mack had started in her stomach.

Her feet were already carrying her toward the door when Mack's hand stopped her. "We haven't finished our business."

His voice was like fingers down her spine, tickling and teasing. Kindra froze. "What else is there to discuss?"

His thumb stroked her hand. "What time I'm picking you up tomorrow."

She shouldn't have asked. Now Ashley was doing an imitation of a hooked trout.

"We can discuss that later," she said in a high, strangled voice.

He moved around her, letting go of her hand. His eyes followed hers as he headed to the door. There was a wicked grin on his face. She didn't trust that grin.

"Okay," he said with a nod.

Then he strolled out the door in a powerful masculine strut, tossing back, "Bye, Ashley. Later, Kindra."

Kindra was so over her head with him.

"What was that all about?" Ashley demanded, whispering fiercely.

"Mack asked me out." Sort of. As a precursor to twelve hours of horizontal research.

"No kidding?" Ashley fanned herself. "Whoa. You go, girl! Now you've got to tell me every single thing he said, you know."

Not a chance. "Hey, listen, Ash, can I meet you in your office in five minutes? I've got some stuff to finish up real quick."

Like deleting the e-mail from Russ so she wouldn't get caught again.

Ashley gave her a curious look, but shrugged. "Okay."

"Thanks."

The second Ashley left, Kindra sat back down in her chair and reopened her e-mail. For the last two months she had been exchanging sexy e-mails with Russ, and on Friday and Saturday nights they went into a private chat room and talked "live."

It had been harmless. Until now.

She quickly deleted the e-mail, intending to dash off a quick note back to Russ saying she was busy at work, but would meet him at their usual time and place after bowling tonight. Her finger was on the mouse, ready to create an e-mail, when she noticed a new message in her in-box.

From Mack Stone.

Her body ignited like a blowtorch in response to just seeing his name.

Shoot, she was really in trouble.

Glancing back over her shoulder to make sure no one had crept up on her, she clicked on the message with trepidation.

I'll pick you up at seven. Dinner at Mojo's. What's your address?

– M

Kindra, I ache from wanting you.

No greeting, no preamble, no electronic smiley faces. Just wham. Right between the thighs.

Kindra inserted an address in the send field. Subject: Date. Then she typed:

Russ, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel our date tonight. I have a headache.

Mack hadn't even touched her yet and he had already ruined her for other men.

Chapter Two

"I cannot believe you decided to come bowling when you could be on a date right now with Mack Stone." Ashley shook her head at Kindra as she pulled her hot pink bowling ball out of the ball return.

Kindra rubbed her eyes. Her friends had been grilling her for the last forty minutes about her date with Mack. And that was after a similar interrogation from Ashley earlier at lunch.

Trish, who was wearing jeans and a deep red shirt that matched her bowling shoes, set down her beer with a snort. "Seriously, Kindra, why play with bowling balls when you can be playing with Mack Stone's balls?"

"Trish!" Kindra felt herself flushing.

Ashley and Trish laughed. Even Violet, who was even quieter than Kindra, looked shocked, but amused.

If they only knew how much she wanted to play with Mack Stone and all his body parts, they would be beyond shocked. They would stop breathing.

"I didn't want to let the team down. I'm going out with Mack tomorrow night."

"We wouldn't have minded," Violet said, patting Kindra's leg as she sat down on the bench next to her.

Kindra knew her friends wouldn't have minded. And she was actually the worst bowler of the four of them, so they would hardly miss her. But she'd been glad for the excuse. She needed twenty-four hours before she could face Mack.

If she faced Mack. Part of her was still wondering if she should cancel the whole thing and go back to Russ.

She knew what she was getting with Russ. Safe, clean, uncomplicated. He didn't even know her last name or where she lived. For all she knew, Russ lived in Alaska. She would never have to encounter Russ over the water cooler or be cornered by him in her office.

Ashley stomped back from her turn, hands on her hips. "Spare. That's the third one in a row."

"I think I'm going to cancel," Kindra blurted out.

Trish dropped her bowling ball on the floor. It crashed, spun, and landed in the gutter. "Crap, Kindra! You made me throw a gutter ball!"

While Trish's ball rolled slowly down the lane, her friends rounded on her.

"You're nuts," Ashley said.

"Certifiable," Trish said.

Kindra turned to Violet. "What do you think?" Violet would probably be on her side.

Violet brushed her long dark hair out of her face. "I don't blame you, Kindra. He sounds like the kind of guy I wouldn't want to go out with. I like the gentle type."

"You like the dorky type," Trish said disparagingly.

Though Trish and her bad boy types weren't exactly Kindra's style, she had to agree that Violet went for quiet and uninteresting. Sort of like mild salsa. Why even bother? You'd be better off just biting a tomato.

"That's not true." Violet pulled on her turtleneck decorated with miniature pumpkins and shook her head.

Violet was even better at camouflage clothing than she was. Granted, it was October, and slightly cool, so perhaps a turtleneck might be warranted. But the pumpkins? Kindra couldn't figure that out. She was not into revealing clothes personally, tending to favor conservative suits at work and track pants on the weekends, but never once had she felt the urge to wear tiny pumpkins on her breasts.

"Well." Trish waved her hand. "From what Ashley says about this guy, he's hotter than hot, so if you cancel you're just plain crazy." She grinned. "Or chicken shit."

It was true. She was chicken shit. And she had sworn to herself on her twenty-sixth birthday in July that she was going to stop doing that. She was going to take charge.

That had been the reason for going out and finding Russ, since real men hadn't been working out for the last decade or so. Of course, Russ was real, he just wasn't actually physically there with her. But at any rate, the point was, she had put her foot down on being chicken shit.

And here she was doing it again.

She squeezed her eyes closed. The feel of Mack pressed against her came rushing back.

"Fine, I won't cancel."

"Alright!" Ashley gave her a high five and said, "Now what are you going to wear? Because if you wear those track pants, I will beat you."

Eliminating work clothes and the wind suits didn't leave her many options. "Jeans?" she asked, biting her lip.

Trish said, "It depends on the jeans." She tossed her thumb toward the lane. "Violet, you're up."

Ashley eyed her long and hard and said, "Don't worry. We'll fix you up. By the time we're done with you, Mack Stone will be eating out of your hand."

Her hand was not what she wanted Mack to be eating out.

Kindra mentally groaned. Help her, she was turning into a total pervert. And liking it.

@ When seven o'clock rolled around on Saturday, Mack was nervous and horny. Not necessarily in that order.

Nervous, because he wanted to do this right.

Horny, because, well, because he was going to have sex with Kindra.

As Mack drove through the West Park neighborhood of neat and tidy houses, he wondered again why a woman like Kindra had sworn off sex. He didn't doubt for a minute that she had. The look on her face had been too serious.

It could be as simple as a sour relationship or just that no man had ever taken the time to give her pleasure. It made him angry that there were men who would just take and never give a thought to a woman's pleasure. He wasn't satisfied until the woman he was with was satisfied.

If Kindra had suffered through a string of lousy lovers, it was no wonder she was disinterested. He could fix that. He could satisfy her. He'd given himself twelve hours after all.

Mack pulled into the driveway of a white Cape Cod with gray shutters. It was tiny but well kept, and there were a couple of pumpkins sitting on the front steps. He'd never pictured Kindra as the homeowner type.

They had worked together a lot over the past year, and about the only thing he could say about her for sure was that she was intelligent. She did her job well. Quickly and with little fuss.

Other than that, he couldn't claim to know Kindra at all.

He wanted to know her. And not just in the physical sense. He was drawn to her, attracted to that flash in her eyes that popped up from time to time.

Parking his black SUV in the driveway, he got out and rang the doorbell. He waited. And waited. He rang the bell again.

Rocking on the balls of his feet, he peeked in the window. He couldn't tell if she was home or not. Had he been stood up? That hadn't happened to him since… ever.

The door flew open. Kindra hovered there, her face pale and her eyes huge. Her hair was still tightly bound in a clip, and she wore no makeup that he could tell, but she had on a denim skirt.

It hugged her hips and ended with a naughty little slit in the middle an inch or two above her knees. Mack swallowed hard. He'd seen Kindra's legs plenty of times at work. But cov-ered in nylons and sticking out from under a shapeless black skirt.

Now her smooth, creamy legs were bare, making his hand ache to run along her calf. She wore sandals with straps and her toenails were painted a chestnut color, giving rise to images of her feet sliding across a white sheet.

Above the skirt rested a navy blue tank top. Which was not revealing in any way. But given that Mack was used to having all of Kindra covered in layers of business boring, this was enticing.

The cotton top was straining against her lush chest. He stared in appreciation. Kindra had been hiding some great tits.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Hi," he said with a glance up, then couldn't stop himself from zeroing back in on her chest. Why had she been covering those up? It defied logic.

Her arms covered her chest and a pink hue tinted her cheeks. Her embarrassment was evident. It was also arousing.

With a smile, he reached out and pulled her arms away with a light tug. "No, don't cover up. I'm enjoying the view. You have a beautiful body, Kindra."

She tugged her arms back. "You're making me uncomfortable."

"I'm going to see it all anyway, sooner or later."

"Later," she whispered.

"So, you haven't changed your mind?" He needed to hear her say it, having had twenty-four hours to think about it, that this was what she wanted to do.

Her chest rose and fell. Her hand crept up to fiddle with the clip on her head. Finally, she took a deep breath and said, "No. I haven't changed my mind."

Thank God. Mack tried not to fall on the ground and kiss her feet in gratitude. But hell, for a second there, he had feared for his sexual safety. If she had said no, he might have actually suffered some real damage from lack of release.

He smiled at her. "I'm glad. Now are you ready for dinner?"

They didn't talk on the ten-minute drive to the restaurant in a trendy rejuvenated old neighborhood. Kindra seemed to be concentrating on breathing, and keeping her legs crossed and far away from him. Mack was concentrating on driving and accidentally-on-purpose bumping her with various parts of his body as often as he could.

A thigh brush here, an arm rub there. At one point he stretched all the way across the front of her, brushing everything, to retrieve his sunglasses from the glove compartment. Kindra sucked in her breath and froze.

Whether or not it was arousing Kindra, he couldn't tell, but it sure had him hot and bothered.

Mack had called Mojo's ahead of time and had requested the smallest table in the darkest corner. As he guided Kindra to the table, his hand on the small of her back, he was happy to see they had followed his instructions.

Once seated, they were sitting almost next to each other, plants and shadows separating them from the nearby tables. Their knees were touching.

Mack slipped his hand under the table and stroked Kindra's bare knee. Smooth and soft.

She jerked it away.

Now he intended to find out exactly why Kindra had chosen cybersex over the real thing. And what would be his best strategy to please her. To make her moan. To have her begging for more.

He shifted as his black pants swelled beneath the table. Damn. If he kept this up, he was going to knock the whole table over with his dick.

"So how does a nice girl like you wind up having online sex?" he said, going with the element of surprise.

Kindra nearly swallowed the lemon wedge in her iced tea. Eyes watering, she coughed and sputtered. She should have known Mack would be curious and questioning. He certainly was at work, and it made him a good designer. But they weren't talking about download times here, they were talking about sex.

But this was not like a normal date.

Mack Stone was a cut-to-the-chase kind of guy. Working with him had shown her that. The encounter in her office the day before had confirmed that.

He was also a flirt and something of an expert on women. Everywhere he went, there was bound to be one or two dangling after him, giggling and smiling and offering to fetch and carry for him.

To Mack, this was probably just mild, everyday kind of stuff. Eat dinner, talk about sex, then do it. But for her, little Kindra Hill, this wasn't exactly the kind of conversation she had on a regular basis. She didn't talk about sex.

Well, if you didn't count Russ, that is. But that was different. That was like an outlet, a hobby. Some women scuba dived, some women knitted. Kindra talked dirty to Russ.

Which somehow made her seem frighteningly sad and twisted. Maybe it wasn't too late to take up chess or spelunking. Tennis could be fun.

In answer to his question, she said carefully, "I'm not sure that's any of your business."

His ice blue eyes never left hers. "You're my business. For tonight anyway. I want to know you."

Kindra shivered and wished she hadn't let Ashley talk her into wearing this tank top. It was clingy and totally ridiculous for October, even if the temperature had peaked at seventy degrees that afternoon. She had worn a denim jacket with the tank top at home, but the cut was so narrow, it had made her feel as if she were stuffed in a straitjacket, so she had taken it off.

Now she wished she were covered in head-to-toe denim. Loose denim. A denim sack. Then maybe she wouldn't feel like Mack was looking at her, picturing her naked.

Of course, the whole point was that she wanted him to see her naked. No correctionshe wanted to see him naked.

But getting from here to there was the hard part. She almost wished he had just jumped her bones the minute she had opened her front door and had forgotten all about this wine-and-dine part.

But that would make her a really cheap date. She was being cheap enough already; she supposed she should at least spend the guy's money first. A flush started hiking up her face. She wasn't so good at this in-person business.

"Well," Mack said. "If you're going to talk dirty, you should at least find someone who knows how."

While this sounded interesting, Kindra was aware that though they were in a dark corner, they were still in a public place. With other people around. Mack's voice sounded really, really loud to her.

She opened her mouth to shush him.

"I mean, that guy is completely unoriginal. Come on." His voice rose another notch. "I want to lick your nipples until you come like a rocket, hot and wet…"

Yikes. Did he want a microphone in case the chef didn't hear? Or maybe he could take out a billboard ad or start an Embarrass the Shit out of Kindra website. She darted a glance around and nearly hid under the tablecloth when she saw that two different tables of people were gawking at them.

Mack was oblivious to her horror. Or the shocked looks of their fellow diners.

"That sounds like he just typed a passage right from a porno."

Kindra fisted her hands and whispered, "Mack!" Couldn't he see she was mortified?

"Now if I was going to say something to you, it would be something like, 'I can't sleep without seeing you in my dreams.'"

Wait a minute. Hold the phone. She looked at him in surprise. Was he trying to get poetic on her? That wasn't part of their bargain. She couldn't handle him saying loverlike things as if he actually cared about her. It would be too much like what she really wanted.

Kindra sat up straight, startled at her thoughts. What did she really want? Sex with Mack, right? Nothing else.

Right?

Mack brushed against her knee with his leg, and she felt it reverberate through every inch of her body.

"No? Not your style? How about, 'You're a beautiful woman and I want you so bad I ache to taste you.' "

Kindra had known she was no match for him. This confirmed it. He seemed to be teasing her, a little smile playing around the corner of his mouth. She sat stock still, afraid to move, afraid to say something needy and grasping, which was how she suddenly felt.

Vulnerable.

"Not doing it for you?" Mack smiled patiently. "Do you like it dirty? I can talk dirty to you, Kindra. How about… 'You've got a sweet little ass and I can't wait to fuck it.' "

Her mouth dropped. She felt it clunk down onto her chest. She found her voice. "I don't think, uh, dirty, is my style."

Not that she had a style. But Mack using words like that when talking about her was too much. Way too much. So Russ used them with her all the time. But Russ wasn't real. Russ was like her computer screen had just gotten really smart and was talking with her. Real, but not real at all.

Russ wasn't looking her in the face. With gorgeous blue eyes and muscles rippling in his short-sleeve rayon shirt. Russ didn't have a low, powerful voice that made women want to stand up and howl at the moon.

Russ wasn't Mack. Oh, so real, and oh, so close.

Mack grinned. "Dirty's not your style? Not yet, anyway."

If she were inclined to be honest, which she wasn't, she kind of liked it when he talked like that. But nothing was going to make her admit that. Not in public. If he tried really hard in private, using all his powers of naked persuasion, she might concede the point.

The waiter stopped next to them, brandishing plates of food. "Oh, look, our dinner is here!" she beamed at the waiter, then took a nice long swallow of her iced tea.

Maybe she should have accepted the wine Mack had suggested instead. She was a little tense.

When the waiter moved away, leaving the steaming fajitas in front of her, Kindra busied herself with filling and rolling up a tortilla.

As Mack did the same, he suddenly asked, "How old are you?"

Pausing with a pepper on her fork, Kindra looked at him. He wasn't looking at her, but was cutting his chicken. It was a harmless question.

She answered, "I'm twenty-six."

"How long have you worked for MicroDesign?"

"Four years." Kindra took a bite of her fajita and savored the spicy flavor.

"So do you own your house or do you rent?"

Was this a loan application?

She swallowed her food and said suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged and leaned back against his chair. "I'm just trying to get to know you, that's all."

Well, stop it. That was the last thing she wanted.

This was supposed to be like the live version of Russ. Anonymous. Sex for the sake of sex. Mack would try and prove his point, she would get to fulfill a year-long fantasy, and everything would be hunky dory. On Monday they would pretend this had never happened, and life would go on.

Instead of telling him that, Kindra found herself saying, "I just bought the house six months ago. I was tired of living in an apartment."

"I know what you mean. I have these neighbors who are always yelling at each other. And I'd like to get a dog, but my building has this ten-pound rule. What kind of a dog is under ten pounds?" He shook his head. "Not any kind of dog I'd want."

The image of Mack with a poodle popped into her head. She giggled before she could stop it.

"What?" He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Nothing." Kindra put her napkin in front of her so he wouldn't see her smiling.

"Tell me."

"Okay." She dropped the napkin. "I was just picturing you walking a poodle. With bows in its fur and a little hot pink sweater."

Mack's lips twitched. "Hey! I don't think so."

Kindra laughed. "You could call her Bitsy. She could ride in your backpack with your laptop."

Mack looked amused. He grinned and said, "You'd like to see that, wouldn't you?"

"I'd love to," she said with relish, not stopping to temper her words. For a minute, she'd forgotten that he was Mack Stone, and she shouldn't be herself with him. She had forgotten that over the years she'd learned it was better to fade into a corner than draw attention to herself.

Her philosophy at MicroDesign had been put up and shut up. Do her job and leave the office politics to those who were capable of handling it.

Hide the bod and the brain.

It had worked.

But it also left her feeling unfulfilled and restless. Daring. Reckless.

Capable of throwing herself into a one-night stand with Mack Stone.

"I like you, Kindra," Mack said, his tone changing from amused to aroused.

Her laugh cut off. His hand was on her knee. My God, he was stroking up her leg, past her thigh, to her…

A gurgling sound left her mouth.

"Mack."

Did that ridiculous breathy voice belong to her? She'd never heard that kitten purr emerge from her mouth in her life.

Flustered and hot, Kindra tried to back her chair out. She hit the wall.

Mack's hand settled onto her inner thigh above the knee, stroking lightly back and forth. Her skirt was bunching a little. He was barely even leaning to reach her and she felt a little like how a fish on a hook must feel. She could thrash about, but that would only make it worse.

Besides, it felt… good. Naughty. If anyone was glancing their way, it would look like he was resting his hand on her knee under the table. No big deal, people did that all the time.

Gripping the table, she strove to act normal. Mack was eating more chicken with his free hand, his face a delicious combination of feigned innocence and wicked intent.

She wanted him. His fingers were a vicious little tease, so close yet so far, and she was having trouble breathing. Her nipples were beading painfully against her tank top, and she ached and throbbed.

With a deep breath, she reached for her fajita.

Mack pinched her inner thigh lightly, sending a jolt of heat surging between her legs. Her hand jerked and the fajita fell on the table, beef tumbling out.

Mack, his blue eyes clouded with desire, said, "I think we're skipping dessert, aren't we?"

Yeah, yes, uh-huh, that would be correct.

Would it look pathetic if she called for the check now?

Mack said, "I'm not really hungry. Let's get this to go."

She was liking him more and more each minute.

Chapter Three

Mack was having a little trouble keeping his eyes on the road. They kept wanting to drift over to Kindra, who had her legs crossed again in the passenger seat, but whose skirt had hiked up way past the point of indifference.

Just one hand in and under the denim, and he would be touching her panties. He should have bought an automatic transmission instead of stick. Then his hand would be free to roam about the cabin, right under Kindra's skirt.

They weren't talking, but the air was rilled with Mexican spices from their boxed dinners, and a healthy dose of sexual tension.

Every inch of him was aware of her. Her soft breasts rising and falling, her small hands clasping and unclasping, and her sweet floral smell.

He was hard and heading out of control.

Kindra peeked at him from underneath long lashes.

His SUV flew into her driveway at forty miles an hour and he slammed on the brakes.

Kindra grabbed the dashboard and gasped. "That was fast."

"Can you get something out of the glove compartment for me?" If he had to lean across her tits, he was not going to be able to resist a kiss. Or a suck. Right here in her driveway.

"Sure." She popped it open. "Oh!"

She had spotted the big box of condoms he had thrown in there. Magnum size. Not that he was bragging or anything, but the regular kind just weren't comfortable.

"Yeah, just grab those, Kindra, and we'll go on in."

"Okay," she squeaked.

She gingerly pulled them out and held them away from her as if they were moldy cheese.

They got out of the car, and he followed her up the walk to the front door. Kindra, in her eagerness to keep the condoms away from her, had forgotten to push her skirt back down.

It was sliding and curving and moving, hugging her tight little ass and showing off a lot of thigh. It was made more alluring by the fact that Kindra was completely unaware that she looked hotter than hell.

On the front step, she took her key and bent her head to unlock the door.

The skirt cupped her ass. He could see her panty line. The last remaining threads of his control snapped.

When the door opened, he put his hands on her waist and pushed her in. She barely had time for a startled cry before he had spun her around and placed his mouth on hers.

Damn, she tasted good. Like sweet and hot and spicy, her plump lips falling open with a sigh of capitulation. He pushed his tongue in and plundered deep into her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him, and he moved his legs around hers to cage her in with his body. He caressed her ass, grinding her against him as his fingers slid over the denim of her skirt. Too many clothes. They needed to come off.

Her breath came hot and fast in his ear as he pulled back and she whimpered.

That needy sound made him reach out and pull her bottom lip into his mouth and suck gently. He eased her against the nearest wall.

Her head fell back. She groaned. He pulsed with need. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman, ever.

He was going to have her.

His hand shot out, ready to grip her tank top and rip it off, when she whispered, "Mack."

Kindra's shy, trembling voice stopped him cold. He was supposed to be doing this right, taking his time and showing her that making love could be a wonderful thing, better than anything you could ever talk about in a chat room.

Don't blow this for her, he told himself harshly. His dick could wait five minutes.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back. He shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat. He counted to five.

Then he said in what was almost a normal voice, "Where's your computer, Kindra?"

Kindra blinked. What the heck was he talking about? She clung to the wall, her knee jutting out from where his leg had shoved her thighs apart.

He was moving into her living room, looking around, as if nothing had just happened between them. He said, "Are you connected all the time, or do you need to dial up?"

Why? Did he want to order a CD? Check his e-mail? Torture her?

She peeled herself off the wall and wiped her wet lips. "What?"

Though his stance was casual, Kindra could clearly see his huge erection pressing against his black casual pants. Good to see he wasn't totally unaffected.

"Cybersex, remember? If I'm going to prove to you that the real thing is better, I have to know what that guy is saying to you." He rubbed his jaw slowly. "I'll read what he says… then do whatever it is to you."

Hello. Kindra felt her knees go weak. She flopped against the wall again. Mack was four feet away from her and he was still causing her body to tingle.

His eyes ran up and down the length of her. His voice was hard. "Then you can decide which way is better."

"It's in the spare bedroom." She pointed down her hall. "My bedroom is upstairs, in one big room, because this is a Cape Cod, the other two bedrooms are down here, I use one for an office."

Clapping her mouth shut on her verbal diarrhea, Kindra let Mack take her hand and pull her toward the office. Her computer was on. She left it running all the time, and she had a twenty-four-hour connection, so it was just sitting there, humming happily, waiting for her.

Mack said, "Open one of his e-mails."

Kindra hesitated, hovering in the middle of the room. There was some graphic stuff in those. "I delete them all."

Mack smiled, his eyebrow raising. "Just retrieve them from the trash, Kindra. Come on, there's got to be some in there."

The room was small, and cluttered with the desk, a file cabinet, and a swivel chair. It had thick brown carpet that she had been meaning to replace, and she stumbled, her heel caught in a loose loop of the carpet. Mack caught her and held her for a heartbeat, then released her.

With trembling fingers, still standing, she went into her mailbox and fished around in her trash can.

"Here's one." Mack pointed to her screen.

There was more than one. There were a dozen at least. Russ's e-mail address stared back at her in black print, mocking her. Could she do this? Shy Kindra?

Could she indulge herself, enjoy this without guilt, and relegate Kindra the wallflower to the closet for one night?

"Open this one."

His voice was commanding, but soft. Titillating, but not frightening. She knew he wouldn't do anything she didn't want to.

Her finger clicked on the mouse.

The mail popped up.

" 'Kindra, what are you wearing?' " Mack read. He chuckled. "I told you, not very original."

He turned to look her over. "But let's see. What are you wearing?"

Kindra stood still in front of the desk while Mack moved around her, his finger trailing across her back.

"Sexy tank top in blue." He went around the front, his fin-gertip dragging over her arm and falling onto her breast. "A bra. Definitely wearing a bra."

He brushed her nipple. She gasped, then bit her lip nervously. The finger dipped down between her breasts, causing her to shiver, and headed down to her skirt, where Mack tugged at the waistband.

"Denim skirt."

Down, down he went while she narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists. Oh, help, he was on his knees now in front of her. She knew what he was going to do, and yet she didn't. Whatever it was, it would be a tease. She wanted his hands on her, both of them, touching, stroking, not this furtive brush with one finger.

She guessed that was the point. To make her ache. His finger wiggled into the slit of her skirt and rose vertically again, dragging the skirt up with him.

She felt cool air on her thighs, and then the pad of his finger reached out and pressed against her sweet spot through her panties. Moisture flooded her.

"Panties." He studied her. "Very hot, very see-through panties."

It had been a dare to herself. They were brand-new, never-been-worn-before, sheer black panties. She'd seen what they looked like on her in the mirror. She knew exactly what Mack was staring at right now. His face was only inches away from her curls. All he would have to do was pull the panties aside, then touch her…

He dropped the skirt back into place. Kindra could have sobbed with disappointment.

His hand caressed against her foot. "Sandals."

Then he rose up in front of her, brushing but never fully touching as he rose to his full height. Taller and taller until he hovered over her powerfully, despite the heels of her shoes.

Bending down over her, lips parted. Kindra closed her eyes, waiting for his mouth to take hers again. He moved past her mouth and she opened her eyes in confusion. Her head yanked back.

With a startled cry, she realized he was undoing her hair from its twist.

"One hair clip, no longer in place." Mack tossed it over his shoulder and drove his fingers into her hair.

It hurt a little. He wasn't gentle and the hair tugged and pulled, but Kindra barely noticed, so arousing was the look on his face.

Mack was murmuring, "I love your hair. I've been dying to see it down. I just knew it would have red streaks in it."

Her hair could be purple and green for all she cared. Kindra boldly reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, urging him toward her mouth.

Mack brushed her lips, his tongue flicking across her quickly before he pulled back. She stumbled again as he let her go.

"Let's see what else your friend has to say."

Kindra stood in fascination, watching Mack scroll down through her e-mails. He was serious about this. He was going to act out Russ's e-mails.

Mack was going to touch and tease and stroke her until she either died from pleasure or begged for mercy, whichever came first.

Either of those worked for her.

"Here we go." Mack stood up straight again and read, " 'I bet you have great tits, Kindra.' "

Mack glanced at her tank top. "I can attest to that."

Kindra rubbed her hands on her skirt and tried not to cross her arms over her chest. She didn't remember those exact words from Russ, so she didn't know what was coming next. That was both frightening and arousing.

Mack went on. " 'They're probably round and full, with hard, taut nipples that want to be sucked. I'll suck them hard and fast, my tongue tasting you everywhere.' "

His mouth quirked up at the corner. "Hard and taut are redundant, and I don't think your nipples have a mind of their own, but we get the point."

He closed the distance between them, and before Kindra could even think, his mouth was on her. He was sucking and pulling through her shirt, without warning or preparation.

"Oh my God!" she said, then closed her mouth in mortification at her words.

Mortification quickly gave way to pleasure.

His hands were on her waist and he pushed the tank top up, the arm on his hair tickling her skin. Another second and he had tugged her bra down, and her breasts were spilling out.

His firm, wet tongue flickered across her. Kindra gripped his shoulders and whimpered. He wasn't being gentle, but was raking across her with his tongue, before pulling her breast back into his mouth.

Oh, yes.

Teeth nipped her and she felt an odd mix of pleasure and pain that was new and downright interesting. When he stood up, she rocked back toward him. She didn't want him to stop, not now when she was hot and aching and desperate for completion.

Mack's eyes were dark, the normally ice blue a lustful royal shade. He wiped the moisture from his mouth and said, "He said to suck hard."

Likely excuse. Kindra was starting to suspect Mack was getting off on this just as much as she was.

Which was a lot.

"Hard and fast," she repeated, tossing her hair back out of her eyes.

Mack was damn near to exploding. He wanted Kindra and he wanted her yesterday, but he was having a fucking good time turning her on like this, nice and slow.

It was obvious no man had ever bothered to take the time to get Kindra good and ready, and Mack was enjoying watching her. She looked shocked, but damn if she didn't look like she was basking in it.

Those green eyes were round and stunned, glazed with passion. She kept making little sounds of encouragement and pleasure, then looked embarrassed to realize she had. And she was completely letting him take the lead.

He was doing, and she was taking.

Until today, Mack had thought he'd had a lot of great sex in his life, even if his reputation had been exaggerated. He did date a lot, but there hadn't been that many women he had actually slept with. But he had considered those times to be damn great sex.

He had been wrong. That had been good sex. But nothing had made him this edgy, this eager, this nervous to please, this out of control.

Sex in the past had ultimately always been about him. Sure, he'd prided himself on pleasing his partner, but he had been in it for him.

This was a new thing, this pleasure from pleasuring someone else. He wanted to get Kindra off all night and just watch.

He turned back to the computer screen. Kindra seemed to like this method of acting out her online fantasies.

" 'Take your bra off for me.' " He smiled at Kindra. "Oh, I like this one."

She stood still in front of him, her rich auburn hair sliding across her shoulders. Her hands rubbed across her skirt again.

"It doesn't say anything about taking your top off, so leave that on."

Hands on the bottom of her tank top, she said, "You can't watch."

Laughing, he closed his eyes. "Fine." He was going to see it all anyway. He'd already had his mouth on her nipple, but hey, if she wanted to be shy, he didn't mind.

Eyes shut, he leaned back against the computer desk and crossed his feet.

"Have you ever had great sex, Kindra?"

Kindra, busy wrestling with her bra straps, said without thinking, "No."

She mentally groaned. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. She didn't want Mack to think there was something wrong with her, or that she was difficult to please.

He said, "That's not your fault, you know. That's his fault, whoever he was."

Tugging her bra down her arm and freeing it from the tank top, Kindra watched Mack leaning there, eyes still closed. Could he see somehow? He looked like he was smirking.

"Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I'm hard to please." She didn't know why she said that, her private fear, but once out there, she couldn't take it back.

Mack's mouth curved up. "I don't think so. You seem to be enjoying yourself so far. Are you? Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes." It was so much easier to be honest when he wasn't staring at her. And she was enjoying herself. More than she had thought possible.

"Good."

His eyes popped open. "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

With a man in the room? She froze, her bra dangling in her hands, the urge to laugh overcoming her. Let's see, she could count the times on one hand… no, make that one finger.

Once. And she was convinced it was a pure accident, since it had yet to be repeated.

"What do you mean?" she hedged, twisting her bra between her hands.

He laughed. He straightened up. Shoot. He was coming toward her. She took a step back.

"It's a simple question. Have you ever had an orgasm?"

"Yes."

"During sex? Were you on top, the bottom, from behind maybe?"

Her face started to burn. From behind? He could not be serious. "None of the above."

He stopped right in front of her, and his fingers wrapped around the bra and yanked it away from her. He dropped it on the floor.

"With his finger then? His tongue?"

There was no way she could answer that. Not with him standing so close her breasts were rubbing across the softness of his shirt. Not when his erection pressed lightly against her mound, then pulled back.

Forward, back, forward, a soft light rhythm that echoed the primal urges she felt.

She couldn't admit out loud that she seemed incapable of an orgasm. He might give up and go home. So she whispered, "I don't think that's in the e-mails, is it?"

His eyes darkened. "Oh, good point. So let's see what's next, shall we?"

When he turned, she breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn't think when he was that close to her. Her body was heavy and feverish and she was starting to feel the pangs of desperation.

Mack looked like he could play like this all night. For twelve hours.

Kindra didn't think she could take much more. Mack was going so damn slow, and he was teasing her with more fore-play than she'd had in a year-long relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

It was now a fact in her mind that she had been robbed. To have made it to the age of twenty-six and never felt this kind of pleasure before was a crying shame. She had a mind to call up the three different men she had slept with and tell them they'd been doing it wrong.

Very wrong.

Maybe Mack could give them some tips. He certainly knew what he was doing.

And if the number of smiling women he had dated in the past were any indication, she wasn't the only one who thought so.

Jealousy surged up in Kindra, catching her off guard. She didn't like the thought of Mack looking at another woman the way he did her. But he wasn't hers.

He was hers for only twelve hours. She had to remember that.

So she should do her best to enjoy him for the time she had, then worry about the after later.

Mack's profile was toward her, and she watched his lips move as he read silently. Admiring his strong jaw and straight nose, she was distracted by the urge to bury her hands in that short black hair and tug.

"You know what?" he said, glancing over at her. "We've been doing this wrong, I think."

It was working for her. "Why?"

"Because this isn't how you would be doing this normally, is it? I mean, when you're here by yourself, reading these e-mails."

She stared at him, not sure what he meant. "I don't know…"

A finger came out and landed on her mouth. "Shh. I'll show you what I mean."

The scent of his skin, a salty sweet smell with remnants of spices, rose to her nostrils.

Guided by instinct, she slipped her tongue out between her lips and licked his finger.

It was a tossup who was more surprised.

"Shit," he exclaimed, his eyes half closed.

Her sentiments exactly.

He slid his finger in between her lips.

Kindra wrapped herself around it and sucked, gently. Mack hovered over her. She could feel his control wavering as he struggled to hold himself still.

She sucked harder, pulling his finger down deep, gliding her tongue up and down. It occurred to her exactly what she was mimicking and the thought had her aching for him inside her.

When he yanked his finger back, she cried out in disappointment.

"Naughty, naughty," he taunted. "I can see I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you."

Kindra wished he would. An eye, and a hand, and a tongue…

Her aggressive move had startled her. She wasn't used to taking the lead with men.

But she also knew it wasn't in her nature to be so obedient. It was something she had trained herself to do, until she had lost sight of herself in her shy persona.

Mack made her feel bold.

"Sorry," she lied with a grin.

"No, you're not."

Shaking her head, she admitted, "No."

He brushed her mouth with a hot kiss. "Good. You're free to do whatever you want here, Kindra. Sex with me is never having to say you're sorry."

It sounded funny and she let out a soft laugh.

With a grin, he said, "Are you laughing at me?"

"Not at you. With you," she corrected, remembering the reprimands she used to receive from her mother.

He snorted. "I wasn't laughing." He squeezed her hand. "But don't worry, you won't be laughing in a minute. Not when you're having the greatest sex you've ever had."

She was ready. Bring it on. "I promise not to laugh." She let her eyes drop down to his erection.

He got the implied joke. "Hey!"

She found herself pressed up hard against him, his mouth on her neck, his impressive male parts bumping her in the perfect spot.

He was chuckling. "You're going to regret that, Kindra Hill. No more Mr. Nice Guy."

She didn't want nice. She wanted hard. She wanted down and dirty.

"Sorry." Then she said in a soft meek voice that was anything but, "I'll be good."

Mack made a strangled sound as he moved back a step, shaking his head. "I can't wait to see how good you're going to be."

Neither could she.

Chapter four

Damn, damn, damn. Did she know what she had just done to him? He had almost lost it right then and there without her even laying a finger on him.

Hell, he knew there was more to Kindra than the uptight woman she was at work. Hadn't he seen that flash in her eyes? It was there now, as her eyes defied her words.

Kindra was dynamite, just waiting to explode.

Her mouth said she would be good, but her eyes said she wanted to be bad, very bad.

Perfect.

He pulled her forward. "I was talking about the e-mails, remember? I want you to show me how you read them."

Confusion crossed her face.

"Do you sit in the chair? Do you stand up?" It had given him a sleepless night last night imagining her reading those e-mails, getting all hot and bothered, with no one to satisfy her.

Fuck. Now he was hot and bothered. Again. Maybe he had never stopped being turned on since the minute he'd walked into her office the day before.

"I sit in the chair."

"Have a seat then." He gestured to the chair, pulled out in front of the computer.

"What do you wear? Pajamas? Sexy clothes? Or are you naked?" That was a image that wouldn't leave now that he'd pictured it. Kindra, naked, legs crossed, head thrown back, hand on the mouse.

She gasped. "Not naked. Just regular clothes."

"Show me," he urged.

She sat down in the chair. It swiveled a little. She looked at him in question.

"And then you just read?"

Kindra nodded wordlessly.

"So read to me. Out loud." He had chosen the message he wanted. It was up on the screen.

There was a pause, then she turned toward the screen. Mack saw her jaw work as she swallowed hard. Then she spoke in a tremulous voice.

" 'Kindra, I want my hands all over you.' " Her cheeks stained a pretty pink color.

He dropped his hands to her shoulders and spread his fingers out.

She jerked forward.

"Shh. Keep reading."

Her body was rigid, straight in the chair, but after a deep breath, she read, " 'I want to run my fingers down over your nipples and fill my hands with your hot tits.' "

She whispered the last word, succumbing to shyness at the last second.

"What? I didn't catch the last thing you said."

Right. He had heard her, she was sure of it. He was playing with her again. And she liked it. A lot.

She said, marginally louder, " 'Tits.' "

Kindra knew her face was burning. She couldn't believe she was doing this, but at the same time she was excited, pulsing with need and feeling brassy and bold. Mack's hands were trailing down her chest, brushing past her nipples to cup her, squeezing gently. He pulled her tank top up past her breasts.

Her eyes drifted close.

"What else?"

She refocused on the screen. " 'Then I'll rub your nipples, pinch them until you beg for me to suck them…' " She trailed off with a gasp.

Mack was already rubbing and pinching, his hands moving slowly and lazily as if he had nothing better to do but stand there over her and tease her, working her like a radio dial. She panted. She groaned.

Her head fell back. He moved and moved until she couldn't stand it. Twisting in the chair, arching to make him take more, she cried out.

His hands didn't move away or take more, they just kept brushing and squeezing until she was gripping the seat of the chair in agony.

"Mack, please!"

"Please what?"

"Suck them. Please." Shyness came a distant second to greedy passion.

"Since you asked so nicely." His head came over her shoulder, and he pushed her shirt out of the way.

He pulled her into his mouth, and she groaned. Yes, that's what she wanted, and she threw her arm back to allow him better access. Desire shot through her, and she pushed her sandals against the carpet.

The wheels moved the chair a little and sent him off balance.

"Now don't go anywhere," he said as he stood back up.

Kindra reached her arms up, intent on pulling him back, but he moved out of her reach.

"What's next?"

"What?" She realized he meant the e-mail, of course, but needed to hear him say it. Wanted him to guide her.

"You know what I mean. Read, Kindra."

So she did, her inhibitions melting like marshmallows over a campfire. If reading got him to touch her, that's what she would do, because she really, really wanted him to keep touching her. " 'If you're wearing a skirt, my hand will move down past your stomach, cupping you.' "

Her breath hitched. Mack's hand covered her.

"So hot. You're burning right through the denim."

She could burn through steel right now. " 'Then if you're wearing panties, you'll stand up and I'll take them off.' "

Resigned, eager, she got to her feet without him telling her to. She panted as Mack got down on his knees. Hands went up her skirt, slid under her panties around to her ass, and massaged her naked skin. Mack dropped hot hard kisses on the front of her skirt.

Then he pulled her panties down, fast, and a shiver passed through her.

"Step out, then sit back down." His voice was ragged, gruff.

She stood there a moment, catching her breath, aware that her top was still bunched up above her breasts. Mack was still fully dressed, but she didn't feel uncomfortable.

This was more arousing than she could have ever imagined. She felt dizzy, heady with the sensations rushing through her body.

She sat back down, pressing her knees together and leaning back against the chair. Mack went behind her again, and she could smell the sharp sheen of sweat on him.

"Read."

She found her place in the message.

" 'I'll pull your skirt up, yank your legs apart, then stick my finger inside of you.' " Ohmigod. Mack was dragging her skirt up, spreading her, then in he went, sliding inside her without any hesitation.

She jerked on the chair. "Mack," she murmured on a heavy groan.

"What now?"

She couldn't speak; she couldn't read anymore. Her knees fell farther apart. She wiggled, trying to entice him to action. His finger was just resting inside her.

"I can't do it anymore," she gasped.

He still wasn't moving. His voice in her ear was low and coaxing. "You do it when you're here alone, don't you? I bet you do the reading and the touching. Don't you?"

"Mack," she begged, tilting her head back.

His finger moved so slowly she thought she would scream with frustration. She tried to move herself down farther on him, but he held her still.

"Answer the question, Kindra. Do you touch yourself?"

She saw what he was doing now. He wasn't going to move until she told him. Desperate, she told him the truth. Anything to have him slide into her.

"Yes," she moaned. "I touch myself."

Mack told himself to breathe. He was bent over Kindra, his head tantalizingly close to her tit and she was spread for him. His finger was inside her where she was tight and warm.

And wet. Damn was she wet. For him.

"I thought maybe you did." It was an image that would stay with him for a lifetime, Kindra in her chair with her fingers between her thighs. But tonight he was doing all the touching.

"I'll read this time for you." He focused on the screen. " 'I'll slide in all the way, nice and deep, then back out again. In again, then out. You'll like that, won't you?' "

As he moved his finger to the words, Kindra whimpered.

"Yes, I like it."

Mack liked it too. She was swollen, pulsing, and slick with need. He went on.

" 'You're so hot and wet and ready to be fucked, but you won't get to be fucked, just my finger. Or maybe two…' "

Kindra gave a breathy sigh as he pushed another finger alongside the first. It was a hot snug fit.

"Oh, yes," she whispered.

" 'Or maybe not.' " Mack withdrew.

She gave a cry of disappointment that went straight to his cock.

" 'Or maybe I'll touch your clit, rubbing it until you can't sit still.' "

Kindra was already having trouble sitting still. Mack used his weight leaning over to hold her gently in the chair. He didn't want her bucking his finger off her and interrupting her pleasure.

With each stroke, she made a low sound of approval. Her nipple brushed his cheek as she arched her back. He moved faster over her clit, rubbing in a light circle.

" 'Then when you're not expecting it, I'll slide back into you with two fingers, stretching you.' "

Mack went back inside Kindra, closing his own eyes for a second at the tight feel of her. He could smell her desire now, sweet and tangy, as she leaned back against the chair, her fingers ripping at the fabric seat.

Her skirt was bunched at her waist and he had a nice view of her damp curls, spread for his fingers. It took everything he had to focus back on the computer screen, but he wanted to finish this.

He wanted Kindra to trust him. He wanted her to come before he did, while he was still in all his clothes. He wanted to show her what she had been missing.

What she could have with him.

" 'You're going to come for me, Kindra, with my fingers inside you, stroking and sliding. You'll feel so good, and when you come, I want to hear you scream.' "

Kindra's breath was hard and fast, her muscles starting to twitch. He could feel how close she was. Burying his head in her neck, he kept stroking. Her skin was hot and damp from exertion and she had squeezed her eyes shut.

With his own words, he urged, "Come on, Kindra, come for me, baby."

She did, with a loud cry. Her ass lifted off the chair, but Mack held her down and kept moving. He could feel her orgasm, shaking and throbbing through her, her body closing around his fingers as it pulsed with relief.

"Mack," she cried. "Oh, sh-it!"

He slowed down his rhythm and laughed softly into her shoulder in triumph. Damn, that was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Or felt. He had given her something he suspected no man ever had, and he felt a rush of tenderness for Kindra that was equally new.

He realized with sudden shock that he was falling for her. Hook, line, and sinker.

It felt right. Everything felt right about Kindra.

Dusting kisses onto her neck and jaw, he withdrew his fingers and marveled that he had made Kindra Hill say "shit" out loud. She was quite a woman.

Kindra took deep breaths and tried to slow down her heart rate. What the heck had just happened? She was pretty sure she'd had an orgasm, but nothing she'd experienced before had ever prepared her for that.

That mind-blowing, rip-roaring, pulsing, frenzied feeling.

She wondered if Rob, her ex-boyfriend, could reimburse her for the hours of her life she'd lost lying beneath him bored out of her mind.

Now this, what Mack had done to her, was a very valuable use of her time. Like yoga, only sweatier. She'd never felt so languid and relaxed in her life.

It didn't even bother her to realize she was sitting there with her top pushed up and her skirt around her waist. Not when Mack was whispering such wonderful things in her ear.

"Did you like that?"

"Yes." Yes, a thousand times yes. And unless he was deaf and blind and devoid of all sensation in his skin, he knew she had enjoyed it.

He rubbed his nose and mouth along her jaw. "I'm so glad you liked it. But we're not finished, you know."

Mack seemed to have a talent for saying exactly what she wanted to hear.

She shivered as his breath blew across her hot, sweaty skin. He was blowing onto her breasts, and her nipples hardened.

"What's next?"

He stood up. "Let's check."

Then he was back at the computer again and Kindra adjusted her skirt back over her thighs as she thought about how many e-mails they had found in her trash. A dozen or so. Twelve hours.

Ohmigod. She went warm all over.

Though she couldn't remember exactly, Russ's e-mails were full of all sorts of naughty things, unique positions, and help her, if she wasn't mistaken there was one revolving almost entirely around spanking.

Somehow she didn't think even Mack could get her to enjoy having her ass smacked.

As he scanned the screen, Mack unbuttoned his shirt. It slid down his arms, revealing a bronzed back and shoulders, with rippling biceps that oozed strength and power. They were smooth, gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat, and he tossed his shirt to the floor negligently.

His pants were sinking on his hips.

Then again, maybe if Mack was gentle…

As he turned back to her, she yanked her shirt back down.

"Modest?" He looked amused.

"I'm half naked and you're not."

"I took my shirt off. That makes me half naked. So you should take yours off and we'll be even."

"That doesn't count!"

He shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter. You can leave it on if you want for this next part."

Next part? That sounded frightening and elusive. Like a science experiment.

Gripping the chair, she tried not to panic as Mack walked toward her. So far it had been great, but Kindra was a traditionalist when it came to sex. She was thinking missionary style and what if he was thinking… something else?

He stopped in front of her. "What's the matter? Your face has gone ghost white."

"What comes next?"

The reaction took her by surprise. Mack dropped his hands. He looked hurt, of all things.

"Kindra, don't you trust me?"

Oh, shoot, now she felt like a jerk. "Well, yes, but I didn't know…"

"Hey." He tipped her chin up so she was forced to meet his eye. "Anything you don't want to do, you say stop and I will. I'd never hurt you."

His mouth stayed open, like he was going to add something, but then he clamped it back shut.

Kindra loosened her hold on the chair. "Okay. I'm sorry. I do trust you, it's just that this is new for me."

Pleasure was new for her. She didn't know how to handle it.

Mack pulled her to her feet and settled his hands on her waist. It felt good there in his embrace. Right.

"Now, we can either stop here for the night, or we can do what I found on your computer." His voice was low and cajoling.

Okay, she had to ask. He knew she was going to ask. Her new breathy voice that she seemed to have adopted overnight came out. "What?"

"Something simple, really. I lie on the bed. You just get on my cock and ride."

Ooohh. Her thighs hummed to life. If only he'd have said so in the first place.

Traditional was so boring. It was time she expanded her sexual horizons. Right now.

"Would you like that?"

Kindra tried to suck back the excess saliva that was suddenly in her mouth. She nodded violently.

He laughed. "Then we need a bed and the condoms."

She had dropped the condoms on the living room floor when Mack had grabbed her by the front door. As far as the bed went, well, the guest room was next to the office. It was closest and the sheets were fresh.

Plus she didn't think that she wanted Mack in her own bed, where she slept every night. Once this was all over and she went back to her ordinary sexless life, she didn't want to lie there at night alone and remember.

"The guest room is right next door. And I dropped the condoms in the living room. I'll go get them."

She speed-walked into the living room and found the discarded box on the carpet as Mack stood in the doorway of the guest room and watched. As she approached him, he moved backward into the room, his fingers hooked in the belt loops of his pants.

"Now remember, you promised not to laugh."

"I won't." She watched in fascination as Mack unzipped his pants and they dropped to the floor.

He kicked them out of the way, then bent and shed his boxer shorts before she could even admire his hard muscular thighs and calves. He rose back up and put his hands on his hips.

Whoa. No laughing here.

That was not a laughing matter at all.

She gawked. She blushed. She drooled a little. Swallowing was painful.

He smirked. "What do you think?"

Kindra spoke without thinking. The words in her head just flew out of her mouth before she even realized she was speaking. "I think I'm in for the ride of my life."

His eyes went dark with shock.

Her hand went over her mouth, but she didn't regret saying it. Nor could she stop salivating over him. While the rest of Mack was the result of hard hours spent in the gym, his… thing was just a wonder of nature.

All the words to name him seemed wrong to Kindra. Penis was clinical and the C and the D words were just never going to come out of her mouth.

Mack strode toward her. "Fuck. Get over here."

Gladly.

He gave her a hard wet kiss, then pulled her tank top over her head. Taking the condoms out of her hand, he sat down on the bed. With a wicked grin, he lay down, arms tucked behind his head.

"If you want it, come and get it."

There was no doubt she wanted it. But she wasn't sure she even knew how to come and get it. The few times she'd been on top in the past, she had felt silly and exposed, and had changed positions again quickly.

But it would be different with Mack. Everything was different with Mack.

Taking a deep breath, she undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor. His grin fell off his face.

Still in the chunky high-heel sandals, she walked toward the bed. She bent over and lifted her ankle on the bed to undo them.

"No," Mack groaned. "Leave them on."

It didn't matter to her. On her knees she crawled across the bed to him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. Mack was rolling on a condom.

Gingerly, she put one knee on either side of him and sat on his legs.

Yep. Feeling silly. Her hands had nowhere to go, and the upper half of her body felt way too exposed.

" Bend forward a minute," he said, beckoning her with his hand.

Kindra leaned over him, and Mack's tongue came out and flicked across her nipple.

That didn't feel silly. That felt sinfully good.

He sucked and licked until her nipple and the underside of her breast were slick and wet, hard with need.

"Okay," he said in dismissal, lying back down. "You can sit back up now."

"Gee, thanks," she said, her breath hitched.

But Mack had made her forget her awkwardness. Now when she sat back up, she arched her back and gripped Mack's hips. She moved against him to tease them both. His hot hardness was sliding against her and she sucked in her breath.

Teasing was overrated. She needed him now.

Lifting her legs a little, she guided him with her hand, then eased herself down on him.

"Oh, yes!" she blurted out as he filled and stretched her, spreading her legs so he went as deep as she could take.

"Yes," he agreed.

But he didn't move. Kindra's eyes flew open. "Aren't you…"

If he just rocked his hips up a little, this would really be something to write home about.

Slowly his head went back and forth on the floral comforter covering her guest bed. "No. I'm just lying here, remember? You've got to ride it."

"What if I can't?" Could she?

Well, shoot. What was the worst that could happen? It wouldn't work and they would just try something else.

And moving against him just had to feel good if sitting still was this satiating.

"You can. I know you can. Come on, Kindra, just lift and fuck. Nothing to it."

Like paint by numbers. She'd always been good at those. Just lift and fuck.

She did.

Oh, yeah.

And again.

Kindra palmed her hands across Mack's hard chest and rode him hard and fast, pleasure gripping every inch of her body. Her eyes were closed, teeth gritted as she moved.

"That's it," he urged. "It's all yours, baby."

All hers. Mack. With a final thrust down, she came hard, pinching his chest as she rode her passion through its pulsing completion.

Collapsing against his chest, she shuddered and pulled in huge lungfuls of air. Mack's hand stroked her back softly, a tender caress that made her heart swell with gratitude.

She knew what he was doing. He was making it good for her and not worrying about his own pleasure. Maybe it was just to prove his original point, that sex in person was better than talking about it, but somehow she thought it was more than that.

Mack was just a nice guy who could tell that she was a sexual novice, and he was trying to make it right for her. That was the only explanation for why she had screamed her way through two orgasms now and he'd had none.

Lying there on his chest, her hot breasts pressed against him, and Mack still buried deep inside her, hard and throbbing, she knew she wanted to pleasure him the way he had her.

She thought she might know how.

There was something that she had noticed men seemed to gravitate toward. Her ex-boyfriend had preferred it. Of course, Rob had thrown hot sauce on his ice cream, so he probably wasn't the best person to set standards by.

But Russ constantly brought it up in his e-mails, with various themes but still the same main element. Even with such limited experience, it was safe to say that Mack might enjoy what she was thinking of.

She had the delicious thought that she might like it almost as much as Mack.

Chapter five

Mack let his hand rub lazily across Kindra's smooth back, still aroused but content to just lie there for a minute. It had occurred to him as Kindra had moved on his cock, her face flushed and excited, that he loved her.

That he didn't want this night to end. He wanted to spend each day loving her and showing her how special she was.

Would he make a total ass out of himself if he blabbered to her about his feelings? It would look a little suspicious, with them still joined, to be declaring love. If he were a woman, he wouldn't believe him.

In the morning, when it was time to leave and they were doing that weird "what do we say to each other" thing, he would tell her he was in love with her. That this didn't have to end.

They could be good together. Would be good together.

Kindra moved off him.

He turned on his side to watch her. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere." She was wiggling away from him and was eyeing the bed carefully.

Mack didn't trust the look on her face. Kindra was unpredictable, he'd found out. If she was going to try and make a break for it, she had another thing coming. He wasn't finished with her yet.

He sat up, ready to grab her if need be. So far she didn't look like she was trying to leave. She was doing a really interesting crawling sort of thing across the comforter.

It gave him a nice view of long pale legs and auburn hair tossing down her back. He grinned at the sandals still on her feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked her finally.

Her lip bit in concentration, she said, "I'm trying to figure something out. I want to do something from another e-mail. I'm not sure it will work, but we can try."

Hell. Kindra was coming up with positions she wanted to try on her own now.

Sexy little thing.

He was about to grab her and flip her onto her back and pump himself into her, when suddenly she went on her knees.

All fours, actually.

And wiggled her tight little ass in front of his face.

His mouth went dry. "What the hell are you doing?" he groaned.

Innocent eyes blinked at him over her shoulder. "Won't this work? I thought you could… you know, this way."

Oh, shit, fuck, damn.

Instead of answering, Mack got on his knees and grabbed her hips. With one fluid motion he sank into her moist heat.

"Oh!" she gasped. "It does work."

Oh, yeah, it worked all right.

The control Mack had been holding on to with all his might since he'd walked in the door of Kindra's house evaporated.

Her milky white skin taunting him in front, her hair sliding and bouncing, he rocked into her. Still wet and swollen, she met him thrust for thrust, her muscles squeezing on his cock.

One, two, three, hell, he was gone. He came with a groan, pushing forward so hard, her knees buckled and they collapsed on the bed.

His body jerked and shuddered as it finished its release. Still shaking, he said anxiously, "Are you okay?"

In the future, he needed to be more careful. He could have poked her eye out he'd rammed so hard.

"I'm fabulous," she said in a throaty voice that sounded nothing like the Kindra Hill he knew who rolled her eyes behind her coffee mug in staff meetings.

Of course he'd never been sprawled out on top of her before, with her face smashed down into the mattress. Maybe her voice sounded like that because she couldn't breathe.

He started to pull back.

"No, don't." She turned her head, laying her cheek on the bed, a smile dancing across her face. "Just stay like this for a minute if you can."

He could stay like that all night if she wanted. "I'm too heavy," he said gruffly. "I'm crushing you."

"No, the mattress sinks. You feel good on me. Hard. I can still feel you throbbing inside me."

Damn, there it was again. That inflated chest feeling. Definitely love.

Despite her reassuring words, he shifted a little so he wasn't lying flat against her. Still entwined with her, he stroked her soft hair.

"You're very beautiful," he murmured.

Her cheeks went pink. "You don't have to say that."

"It's true. You must know it too, or you wouldn't try so hard to hide it."

"It's easier that way, you know," she said, her finger playing with the fold of the comforter. "Then no one notices you."

Too bad it hadn't worked. "I noticed you. I've been noticing you since the day I started at MicroDesign."

She scoffed. "Yeah, right. You had to catch me having cyber-sex before you noticed me."

"No. Catching you having cybersex only showed me proof of what I had already guessed. That you're one funny, sexy lady underneath the boring clothes."

She didn't look convinced, though her eyes were wistful. "I don't believe you."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I know you always drink your coffee out of a mug that has wildflowers on it, and that you listen to classical music in your office? That every Friday you go out to lunch with Ashley and that you do at least half of Bill's work every week because he's a lazy shit." His voice softened. "That you roll your eyes at every asinine speech Mr. Parker makes, and that when Judy's son died, you brought her dinner for a week."

And maybe he knew Kindra better than even he had suspected.

"Oh," was all she said, her expression a little stunned.

She didn't say anything else and he didn't need her to. He wanted his words to sink in, and they lay silently for another minute.

When his stomach let out a loud growl into the quiet room, they both laughed.

"Sorry, but you know, I rushed dinner. My stomach's reminding me." He reluctantly eased himself out of her.

He gave one last stroke along her back, then, with a satisfied sigh, pulled the condom off. "Where should I put this?"

Kindra pulled herself to a sitting position, and started unbuckling the sandals from her feet. "In the bathroom right across the hall. Why don't I reheat our dinners while you do that?"

"Uh… because we left the boxes in my car." When he had been too preoccupied with getting Kindra into the house and naked to worry about bacteria growth. "I don't think it's a good idea to eat beef that's been sitting out for two hours."

"What a waste." She stretched her arms up over her head, kicking the sandals off the bed to the floor.

Her breasts rose and he admired the graceful curve of her neck and shoulder. "Oh, it was worth it," he told her truthfully.

Even as his stomach disagreed and growled again, rumbling long and loud.

She giggled. "I can fix you a ham sandwich."

Damn, that was cute. She'd offered to make him a sandwich. Mack knew it was only lunch meat, but hey, he must mean something to her, right?

"You don't have to do that. Just show me where everything is and I'll fix it."

With a smile, she put her hand on his knee and brushed with her fingertips. "Don't be silly. I don't mind doing it."

A fabulous idea came to him. "Would you mind making the sandwich naked?"

Kindra standing there, bending over to retrieve the ham from the fridge, spreading mustard… Now if only she would put the high-heel sandals back on, they would really be on to something.

"Yes, I would mind!" she said, snatching her hand back.

Well, hell, it had been worth a try.

And as if to prove her point, she stood up and pulled her skirt off the floor and wiggled into it. Mack watched her skin disappear with regret, but then consoled himself with the fact that, after eating, he could peel all her clothing back off again.

Five minutes later he met her in the kitchen, having taken care of business and thrown his boxer shorts on. He absolutely refused to put a single stitch of clothing on beyond that.

Kindra's house was small, but it was comfortable and clean. She had decorated with big beige furniture and the kitchen was a soft yellow. It wasn't frilly and fussy the way some women liked. Yet it was so much more personable than his white-walled apartment.

Kindra was putting his sandwich on the table. The sight of her barefoot, in her wrinkled tank top and no bra, her hair loose and mussed, floored him. She looked gorgeous, her lips swollen and her eyes languid and satisfied. A small smile played around her lips.

The room was warm and smelled like bread, and Mack knew right then and there that this was where he wanted to be. Every day.

Kindra smiled at Mack as he came into the kitchen. He was scratching his chest absently and he looked as if he'd taken a baseball between the eyes. It made her a little nervous.

But she reasoned he was probably starving, having essentially skipped his dinner.

Mack went right past the table and to her back door. He pulled up the blind and peered out into the darkness. "Do you have a yard at all?"

It should have been a weird question, but Kindra felt too damn good to care about the why. After the orgasms he had given her, he could ask anything that came to mind, including the balance in her checkbook and whom she'd voted for in the last election, and she wouldn't care. She flipped the light switch that flooded the backyard with a spotlight.

"It's not real big, but it's enough for me. It's surrounded by a wooden fence and I'm working on planting some perennials around the patio."

He peered out and nodded in approval. "Perfect for a dog."

She laughed. "You're the one who wants a poodle named Bitsy, not me."

"I never said that, you said that." Mack abandoned his post at the door and sat down at the table. He patted the seat next to him.

As she sat down, she said, "Yeah, well, I'd like a dog, but not right now. Not by myself. Taking care of a house alone is enough."

Mack didn't say anything, just gave her an odd look, his head tilted and a strange half smile teasing about his lips.

Why was he looking at her like that?

Then she flushed.

Ohmigod, did he think she was hinting? That she wanted a relationship?

She'd rather eat maggots than have him think she was going to now try and latch on to him like a dryer sheet to Velcro. Even though the idea held certain appeal, she had sworn to herself that she would go into this night knowing it was a one time deal.

Mack was out of her league.

He was here to prove a point and get a little free action.

They could handle showing up at work on Monday with things the way they were right now. But if he started thinking that she was going to cling, or if she actually lost her mind and did start to cling, they were going to have a car wreck on their hands. Total disaster.

As he bit his sandwich, Kindra realized that this conversation crap needed to not happen. He was being too nice.

Why couldn't he be like most guys and just take what he wanted and roll over and go to sleep? Why did he have to say sweet things that showed she wasn't just a bedpost notch to him?

Telling her he knew she drank out of a wildflower mug, calling her beautiful. Geez, didn't he know that a woman hears things like that and starts hoping?

"Aren't you eating anything?" he asked, his mouth full.

"No, I'm not hungry." She was sick, actually.

She had gone and fallen for Mack.

Or rather, she'd fallen for Mack a year ago when he had first walked in the door at MicroDesign, but she had known then that she could never hope to catch his eye.

Well, now she had his eye, and other things, and she found her stupid little heart wishing for more still.

That had to stop. She ground her thoughts to a halt right there.

This was it. One night. Nothing more.

And it was all she was going to have. So she might as well kill the conversation and get back to why he was here in the first place.

Sex.

Plain and simple.

Just the thought of which had her skirt firing up like a gas grill.

"That was great," Mack said as he dusted the last crumbs off his mouth. "Thanks, I feel better."

"Good." She stood up, the rustle of her skirt on her legs re-minding her that her panties were still crumpled up on the floor in the office. Which was just as well. She had no intention of putting any underwear back on until Mack left.

"Come here, Mack, I want to show you something."

His contented look gave way to interest.

"Is this like, here, look at the pictures of my trip to London, or like, here, look at another dirty e-mail with me?"

Not having much experience tossing off sultry looks, Kindra wasn't sure if she was doing it right, but she gave it her best effort. Running her fingers through her hair, she said, "I've never been to London."

"Damn, Kindra." He stood up so fast, he knocked his chair over with a crash. "You are so sexy."

It wasn't a declaration of love by far, but it was a heck of a lot more than she'd had on Thursday. She'd take it. She'd take him.

Plus the fact that he was close to panting was downright gratifying. And the way his hands were groping her ass as he followed her down the hall was enough to embolden her.

She could do this. She wanted this.

When she stopped in the doorway of her office, Mack bumped up against her. His hard-on pressed into her and she rubbed herself back against him.

A nice low guttural moan rang from him.

Hands were up her skirt.

Whoa, too fast.

Swatting him away, she stepped into the room. "Just a minute."

"Why?" Mack reached for her again.

Feeling a little heady with power and desire, Kindra said, "Sit in the chair."

His eyebrows raised. "Why?" he repeated.

"Just do it." She pointed at the chair, heart thumping as she waited to see if he would obey her command.

Mack held his hands up in mock surrender and sauntered over to the chair. "Fine, I'll do it."

He dropped into the chair and spread his legs in a mascu-line slouch. He flung his arm over the back and tried to look nonchalant, but the bulge in his boxers gave him away.

Kindra smiled. Whatever her complicated feelings for Mack were, he certainly made her feel sexy. All woman. Confident in herself.

Avoiding the chair in case he might think to grab her or touch her, Kindra went to her computer. She had a camera to record onto her computer.

They were going to use it. Right now.

Turning it toward the center of the room, the carpet and Mack in the chair popped up on her screen. Adjusting it, she made sure that Mack's complete body was in view.

She was going to record herself having sex with Mack, and when she was alone after tonight, she could watch it. She would ache for Mack and this night together and she would get herself off to it.

No more Russ.

From now on, she'd have Mack. If not in person, then on her computer.

Mack looked frozen in the chair, his eyes wide, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. "Kindra?"

"Yes?" Two more steps and she would be on the screen with him.

"Did you just turn that camera on?"

"Yes." She stepped up to him and pushed her hands into the pockets of her denim skirt, tugging it down so her naval was exposed. "You don't mind, do you?"

His hand twitched on the back of the chair, his cock strained against his boxers. "Can I watch it with you later?"

She went wet, hot and fast, and the denim of her skirt rubbed against her moistness as desire raced through her. "Yes."

"Then I don't mind."

Mouth dry, Kindra stepped in front of the camera and turned so both their profiles would be recorded. She licked her lips nervously and her breath hitched.

Mack seemed to sense her sudden apprehension. He said, "Take your shirt off."

"Okay." Lifting her arms, Kindra arched her back and pulled the tank top off, letting it tumble out of her hand as she tossed her hair out of her eyes.

"Touch your nipples." He was leaning back again, lips parted, eyes dark and cloudy. His voice was soft and coaxing.

Kindra became painfully aware of the camera. This was supposed to be her show. She had intended to strip for Mack, then give him a lap dance of sorts in the chair. Not do what he wanted, not touch herself.

"Go on," he urged. "I can see how hard and hot they are. They're just begging to be touched."

They were hard and hot. Her nipples were aching, erect and budding. She closed her eyes. She couldn't do this.

Sensing Mack had moved closer, her eyes flew open. He had rolled the chair until he was right in front of her. Desperate, wanting his hands on her, aching with need and feeling too inhibited to touch herself, she rocked forward.

Mack put his hands on her inner thighs. Her skirt went up. His head bent. Fingers parted her. She gripped his shoulders.

Hot breath teased her clit, but he didn't touch her. The need was painful.

"Mack, please."

"I'll take care of this if you touch your tits," he murmured, giving her damp curls a little sharp tug.

When put that way… Kindra reached up and cupped her breasts, gasping with pleasure as Mack's tongue found her and stroked lightly.

She threw her head back, and gave a soft moan. He was teasing, tasting with a maddeningly light touch that had her squeezing and rubbing her nipples in desperation. He pulled back completely and gazed up at her.

Her hands didn't stop.

"Oh, yeah, like that. That's good, baby." Then he bent back over and plunged his tongue deep inside her.

Kindra came with a cry, and the only thing that kept her standing was Mack's hands on her legs, holding her still. Her hands dropped and she drew in a shaky breath.

"Mack…" As the tight passion settled down to satisfaction, Kindra felt her eyes pricking. She bit her lip. God, she was not going to be a total dip and cry, was she?

She'd rather go bald. At least there were wigs to fix that. Nothing was going to prevent total humiliation if she went emotional and confessed her feelings for Mack.

He was laughing softly, his grip on her legs relaxing. His soft lips pressed her inner thigh. "You're incredible," he murmured.

It was going to happen. She was going to cry. Shoot. Blinking hard, she pushed him back into the chair. Feelings of love rose up in her and threatened to overwhelm her. If she couldn't tell him, she could show him.

And hide her face in the process.

Kindra went down on her knees.

Mack's eyebrows shot up.

He opened his mouth to say something.

Kindra didn't wait to hear. Pulling his erection out from his black boxers, she bent over and took a nice long luscious suck.

Chapter Six

Mack stared at the ceiling and gave a lusty sigh. Damn, he felt good. Never better, in fact. The lack of sleep didn't bother him.

Not when he had spent half the night making love to Kindra. She was incredible. Giving, daring, yet shy. The way she was in bed reflected the complexity of her personality out of bed.

Full of surprises.

Mack rolled over in Kindra's guest bed and watched her sleeping, her auburn hair spilling across her face. She had pulled the blanket up tightly under her chin, and her lush mouth was open as she breathed in and out with a soft whisper.

Settling himself up against her back, Mack stroked her smooth thighs. His body responded instantly, and a huge boner was pressing into her backside in less than thirty seconds.

He couldn't help himself. Kindra did things to him, made him feel a way he never had.

When she woke up, he was going to tell her that he'd fallen in love with her.

No time like the present. Dusting a kiss on her shoulder, he reached around and slid a finger inside her, then back out, teasing her clit.

He felt her body swell and moisten. Her eyes popped open.

"Mack," she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "It's too early."

"Then why are you wet?" He sucked her earlobe.

Already her body was rocking against his hand, her breath hitching.

"I'm not," she insisted. "I'm still asleep."

"Then you must be having a damn good dream."

Kindra's fingers clenched the sheet as she moved faster against him.

Mack added a second finger and sent her over the edge. Kindra shuddered and relaxed back on the pillow.

"Mmmm."

"My thoughts exactly." He rubbed his lips across her cheek and pulled his hand back.

"So what are your plans for the day?" He pictured snuggling half the day away, maybe grabbing some lunch and a movie, sharing a shower. Stopping by his apartment for fresh clothes and his toothbrush, then hightailing it back to Kindra's for another night together.

Driving in to work together tomorrow.

Kindra stiffened. "Today? Oh, I have… things to do."

"What things?" He didn't like the sound of that. "I could do them with you."

"No, no." Now she scooted away from him and sat up, hugging the sheet around herself. "It's girl stuff."

Confused, a feeling of foreboding creeping over him, Mack said, "What girl things? Like buying tampons or something? That doesn't bother me."

Well, actually it did, but if that meant he could spend the day with Kindra, he could tolerate the whole heavy versus light flow conversation.

She turned back to him. "Mack…"

Foreboding was no longer creeping up. It was flat out biting him on the ass. There was an "I'm sorry" coming here, he just knew it.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea to see each other again."

"What?" Now he sat straight up. What the hell was she talking about? He had just decided they were perfect for each other. She couldn't possibly mean that their one-night stand was a real, honest-to-God, one-night stand.

"This was fabulous, really, an amazing night, but that's all it was. You know that."

He didn't know that. God, he felt so cheap, so used. Baffled, he gaped at her.

Gently, she gave him a small smile, clutching the sheet across her chest. "Your twelve hours is up."

His own words thrown back at him. Mack struggled for composure even though his chest felt as if someone had dug their fist in and ripped out his heart.

He'd thought there was something there, that sometimes Kindra had looked at him with tenderness. That the things they'd done were so much more than sex. They'd been intimate, personal.

Obviously he had been completely wrong.

"Do you want some breakfast before you go?"

Her back was exposed, creamy white flesh mocking him, taunting him as she looked at him over her shoulder. Her beauty nearly undid him.

But he'd be damned if he'd grovel or cry. Somehow he'd get out of this with his dignity intact.

"No, thanks." Like he was going to sit there in the kitchen and eat some freaking eggs while she wished him gone.

"Did I prove my point?" he asked roughly.

Her little pink tongue slipped out and licked her lip. "Oh, yeah, you proved it. This was much, much better than cybersex."

It was something.

Not what he wanted, but something. And at least he could be comforted by the fact that he hadn't blurted out his feelings and suffered extra humiliation as she let him down gently.

Nor would he follow her around like a dog after a bitch in heat, though she did reduce him to panting.

"Good," he said, his jaw clenched. "Tell that guy to get some new lines, will you? That alone will make it better for you."

Then he got up off the bed and strode to the bathroom, not sticking around to hear Kindra's reply. The sudden image of Kindra in her computer chair letting that filthy guy talk nasty to her made him livid. Hot with fury and sick with jealousy.

If he couldn't have her, he sure as hell didn't want anyone to have her, especially not some cyber-Romeo who didn't know sexy from sushi.

Mack closed the bathroom door behind him.

He'd proven his point all right. Proven he was an idiot.

@ Kindra stared at her in-box. A half-dozen messages from Russ were winking at her. Subject headings like "Where are you?"

"Miss you," and "Feeling horny" leapt out.

She had yet to read any of them.

Listening to Russ talk about crotchless panties suddenly sounded about as fun as bleaching her mustache. A waste of a good ten minutes.

This wasn't supposed to happen. She had sent Mack away that morning, determined to protect her heart at all costs.

Watching him stomp off, stiff and gruff, had been the hardest thing she'd done to date, if she didn't count jumping those hurdles in high school gym class.

But now she was supposed to resume her life.

Go to work. Wear boring clothes. Chat with Russ. Never have good sex again.

Gee, that sounded appealing.

Without thought, her hand ran the cursor through the computer menu. She retrieved the video she had made the night before. Thirty seconds later she and Mack were on her screen.

His voice was low, commanding. Kindra watched herself, head thrown back, eyes half closed and breath hitching. She caressed her nipples.

Mack spread her thighs.

Kindra live began to pant in unison with her recorded self.

Oh, Mack. What the heck had she done?

So what if he didn't want a relationship? She could have done this with him again.

Until he got tired of her.

Which would be worse in the end.

No, she had done the right thing.

Mack's tongue plunged into her onscreen.

The doorbell rang. Kindra leapt up, turning off her monitor. Maybe it was Mack, coming back. Maybe he wanted to make her change her mind. Or maybe he had just forgotten his socks or something.

She peered through the living room window as she ran to the door. Or maybe it was her friends. Shoot.

Reluctantly, she opened the door.

Ashley groaned. "Oh, Kindra, you're wearing track pants again."

"So?" They were perfect it's-Sunday-and-my-life-is-over pants.

Trish pushed past her. "Is he still here? How was it? You did sleep with him, didn't you?"

Kindra had no interest in dishing out details on her night with Mack. "No, he's not still here."

Ashley collapsed on her couch, enormous hoop earrings dangling down over her lime green sweater. "But he was here, right?"

"Yes, we went out to dinner, then came back here." Kindra stuck her hands in her nylon pants and paced across the room. She felt a headache coming on. A real one this time, unlike the one she had faked for Russ.

"Well, change your clothes, then tell us all about it," Ashley urged.

"Why do I have to change my clothes?"

"Because we're going to the movies, remember?" Ashley said. "Did you forget?"

"Yes."

"Must have been some night," Trish snickered. "Details, dear, we want details."

"Are you okay, Kindra?" Violet asked, pushing her glasses up with one finger. "You look like something's wrong."

Everything was wrong. Kindra stopped pacing and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'm not okay. I'm in love with Mack!"

Violet's eyes widened. Trish gasped.

Ashley moaned. "Oh, Kindra, how could you?"

"I didn't mean to!" Like she'd set out to make herself miserable by falling in love with an unobtainable paragon.

"That must have been good sex," Trish remarked.

"It was." Better than good. Ecstasy-inducing, mind-bending, earth-shaking, great sex. She sighed.

"But it was more than great sex, it was… intimate." Another lusty sigh emerged. "And now that I've let the cat out of the bag, I don't think I can stuff it back in."

"What do you mean?" Violet asked.

She wasn't sure exactly. She just knew she couldn't be the same old Kindra-the-wallflower anymore. She had changed. Mack had brought out parts of herself she had forgotten existed.

"I may not be able to have Mack, but I'm tired of being taken advantage of at work. I'm going to stand up for myself, and get some excitement in my life."

"Does that mean better clothes?" Ashley asked hopefully.

"Will you quit harping on my clothes?" she said in exasperation. "But yes, it means new clothes."

"Cool." Trish swung her backpack purse back on. "Let's skip the movie and go shopping instead."

Ashley stood up and hugged Kindra. "Hey, I'm sorry things didn't work out with Mack, but you never know. Maybe he feels the same way about you."

Hah. And Mack Stone was going to get a pet poodle named Bitsy. Please.

@ Mack sucked down his third cup of coffee in the last hour and glared at Jim, his coworker. God, Jim was annoying. Of course, everyone was annoying this morning.

After a miserable Sunday afternoon wallowing in self-pity, Mack had spent a sleepless night. He'd woken up Monday morning with a pounding head and an aching heart.

Then to make it all worse, Kindra had strode into work that morning looking breezy and sensual, confident and happy.

For the first time ever she was wearing her hair down at work. The soft auburn sleekness bounced over her shoulders, and she was wearing very subtle makeup that brought out her green eyes and made her cheekbones look a mile long.

Instead of black, her suit was brown. Warm chocolate that made her skin glow. The cut was feminine, tighter, and shorter than he'd ever seen Kindra in.

She looked fantastic. Gorgeous. Edible.

Damned if he wasn't the only one to notice it either. Half the office staff was sniffing around her. The male half.

Mack stood over Jim's desk, wishing Jim would put his doughnut down so they could solve the problem they were working on. Bright laughter floated over to them. Mack gritted his teeth and turned.

It was Kindra perched on the reception desk, surrounded by three guys. Mack rubbed his forehead. When Kindra had seen him this morning, he had gotten nothing more than a cool hello.

He'd seen her naked. He had been inside her.

But these geeks got her smile, her full attention, and her laugh.

Kindra had a great laugh.

"Damn," Jim said around a mouthful of doughnut. "Something is different about Kindra this morning. Maybe she finally got a little action over the weekend." He snorted in laughter.

Mack turned and glared at Jim. "Watch your damn mouth."

Jim stopped laughing. "What's the matter with you?" Then his eyebrows rose. "Oh, I get it. Kindra was with you this weekend, wasn't she?"

Mack didn't answer, but turned back to watch Kindra and her entourage.

Jim said, "I've never seen you look so ticked off. Has the great Mack Stone finally fallen?"

Like a boulder.

Without thinking, he marched himself over to Kindra and interrupted rudely by elbowing past Bob from payroll.

"I need to talk to you."

Kindra flushed. She darted her eyes around and her shoulders tensed. "I'm busy right now."

"I don't care."

Kindra glared at him, held her chin up high, and walked away, her hair swinging.

Mack stood there flabbergasted. She had walked away from him.

A hand touched his arm. He looked down at Ashley, who was tugging him away from the crowd.

"What?" he said, trying to pull his arm away.

"Get a clue, Mack," she whispered. "You can't just embarrass the hell out of Kindra by acting like a total cretin and then expect her to listen to you."

She pointed her finger at him. "Now you listen to me. How do you feel about Kindra?"

Sick with love. He tugged at his tie. "That's none of your business."

"Do you love her?"

He couldn't say yes, but he couldn't say no either. He looked at Ashley in agony.

She nodded in satisfaction. "Good. She loves you too, you know, but she thinks you were in it for the sex."

"I never said that!"

"You never said otherwise," Miss Wisdom pointed out to him.

Mack ran his fingers through his hair. Could it be true? Did Kindra love him? Hope rose like a hot-air balloon.

But what if she didn't?

"Do you think I should tell her how I feel now?"

"No, I think you should both spend the rest of your lives miserable for being so stupid." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you should tell her!"

Mack barely even noticed Ashley's sarcasm. If Ashley was wrong about Kindra's feelings, he certainly couldn't feel any lousier than he did right now.

And if she was right…

Oh, man. Bliss.

Mack had an idea. He bent and squeezed Ashley by the shoulders. "Thanks, Ashley. I owe you one."

Then he turned and headed to his office, telling himself that Kindra was worth all the embarrassment he would suffer if this didn't work.

Kindra was still in shock an hour later. What exactly had Mack been doing?

Had she wounded his male ego by telling him one night was enough?

Rubbing her temples, she spat hair out of her mouth. Wearing the hair down was supposed to be symbolic, but it was just getting on her nerves. She was constantly pawing it to get it out of her way.

The words on her screen were blurring in front of her. She'd been hiding in her office since she had walked away from Mack, and she couldn't concentrate on anything.

She'd been staring at the same proposal for a solid thirty minutes and the words were dancing tiny tangos with each other.

Frustrated, she clicked to check her e-mail. Anything to distract her. It was possible there would be another pleading message from Russ begging her not to sever their relationship.

Those had been his exact words after she had e-mailed him the night before telling him she wasn't interested any longer. The word relationship made her snort out loud.

Talking about sex in a chat room was not a relationship.

Neither was one night together.

She groaned. This wasn't distracting her from thinking about Mack.

She was a federal disaster area. Hurricane Kindra.

Then her eye landed on her new messages. There was one from Mack Stone.

"Oh, no."

If he talked dirty to her, she was not going to be able to resist.

One eye closed, the other covered by her hand, she clicked to open the e-mail. Then she spread her fingers and held her breath.

The message was short.

Marry me.

Kindra dropped her hands and gripped her desk. "Ohmigod, ohmigod."

Was this some sort of cruel joke from Mack or Russ or some office prankster? Her vision went blurry.

Her stomach lurched like she'd had bad calamari.

The door to her office opened.

Frantic, she bent her head and scrolled down so her screen was blank. Praying it was Ashley, she said, "Yes?" in a bright fake voice.

"Woof."

What the heck was that? Her head snapped up. She turned, blinking hard.

Now she'd seen everything. Truly. Mack was standing in her doorway with a fluffy white poodle sticking out of his computer backpack.

"What are you doing?" she blurted out.

"Hoping like hell I'm not making an ass out of myself."

No comment.

Kindra thumbed back toward her screen, her heart pounding way too fast to be normal. If she passed out, she hoped Mack would think to call 911. "Did you just send me a message?"

"If it said 'Marry me,' then yes, I did."

That's it. She was gone. Tears raced down her face and she struggled not to blubber. "Why?"

"Kindra." He took a step forward. "Because I love you."

"No, you don't." Now why had she just said that? Hadn't she learned anything? If the man of her dreams proposed and said he loved her, she needed to latch on and ask questions later.

"Yes, I do." The fluffy little dog put its paws on his shoul-der and panted. "Come on, I have a freaking dog on my back. With pink bows in its hair. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

It told her volumes. That Mack did love her. The pink bows confirmed it. She laughed. "I love you too."

"Whew." He grinned. "You had me worried there. Does that mean you'll marry me? We can live in your house and raise Bitsy together?"

"Yes." But the dog's name had to go.

Kindra stood up and went to Mack. Right into his arms. Where she belonged.

The kiss he gave her was long and passionate, moist lips and groping hands. His hot tongue lapped against hers.

"Oh, baby," he groaned.

Oh, baby was right. Kindra snuggled up against his hard chest and tugged on his cranberry tie. She absolutely loved the way he looked in a tie.

Mack gestured to her computer. "You have to tell cyber-Romeo to take a hike. Then we'll change your e-mail address. Maybe to IbelongtoMack@hotmail.com."

She laughed. "I already did. Yesterday. Told him to take a hike, that is, not changed my address."

His eyes burned. "You know, we should take the dog home before she has an accident down my back."

"Oh, good idea." Kindra was due a long leisurely lunch, since she'd never had one in four years on the job.

Feeling fabulous and daring, she let her hand slide down past his waist. She squeezed him and grinned in satisfaction when he went hard.

He said in a tight voice, "Want to have a nooner?"

Yes, please.

"Sure. Let me grab my purse." Kindra rubbed the little dog's head over Mack's shoulder and said, "She really is cute."

Bitsy barked.

Mack shifted the pack on his back. "You know, I never did get to watch that little video we made. Maybe we could do that first. Did you save it?"

"It's on my hard drive." But Kindra had a better idea.

Her hand back on his pants stroking him, she whispered in his ear, "Let's make another one instead."

Mack watched Kindra walk toward the door, her sweet little ass swaying as she shot him a "come and get it" look over her shoulder.

Damn, he was one lucky guy.

He followed her, his tongue probably hanging as low as Bitsy's. "Baby, let's go burn up your hard drive."