"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.

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.