A book in the Bad Boys series, 2003

"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?"