Bad Boys Online (2 page)

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 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 she 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, nor 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 her office door flew 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, 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 towards 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, in a fierce whisper.

“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 email 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 email. For the last two months she had been exchanging sexy emails 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 email, 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 email, when she noticed a new message in her inbox.

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.

“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 her 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 her 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,” she 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. 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 being like 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 sweats didn’t leave her many options. “Jeans?” she asked, biting her lip.

Trish said, “It depends on the jeans.” She tossed her thumb towards 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 her 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 make-up that he could tell, but she had on a short 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 covered to the knee and sticking out from under a conservative black work skirt.

Now her smooth, creamy legs were very 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.