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  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.