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.