"Yes, I would mind!" she said, snatching her hand back.
Well, hell, it had been worth a try.
And as if to prove her point, she stood up and pulled her skirt off the floor and wiggled into it. Mack watched her skin disappear with regret, but then consoled himself with the fact that, after eating, he could peel all her clothing back off again.
Five minutes later he met her in the kitchen, having taken care of business and thrown his boxer shorts on. He absolutely refused to put a single stitch of clothing on beyond that.
Kindra's house was small, but it was comfortable and clean. She had decorated with big beige furniture and the kitchen was a soft yellow. It wasn't frilly and fussy the way some women liked. Yet it was so much more personable than his white-walled apartment.
Kindra was putting his sandwich on the table. The sight of her barefoot, in her wrinkled tank top and no bra, her hair loose and mussed, floored him. She looked gorgeous, her lips swollen and her eyes languid and satisfied. A small smile played around her lips.
The room was warm and smelled like bread, and Mack knew right then and there that this was where he wanted to be. Every day.
Kindra smiled at Mack as he came into the kitchen. He was scratching his chest absently and he looked as if he'd taken a baseball between the eyes. It made her a little nervous.
But she reasoned he was probably starving, having essentially skipped his dinner.
Mack went right past the table and to her back door. He pulled up the blind and peered out into the darkness. "Do you have a yard at all?"
It should have been a weird question, but Kindra felt too damn good to care about the why. After the orgasms he had given her, he could ask anything that came to mind, including the balance in her checkbook and whom she'd voted for in the last election, and she wouldn't care. She flipped the light switch that flooded the backyard with a spotlight.
"It's not real big, but it's enough for me. It's surrounded by a wooden fence and I'm working on planting some perennials around the patio."
He peered out and nodded in approval. "Perfect for a dog."
She laughed. "You're the one who wants a poodle named Bitsy, not me."
"I never said that, you said that." Mack abandoned his post at the door and sat down at the table. He patted the seat next to him.
As she sat down, she said, "Yeah, well, I'd like a dog, but not right now. Not by myself. Taking care of a house alone is enough."
Mack didn't say anything, just gave her an odd look, his head tilted and a strange half smile teasing about his lips.
Why was he looking at her like that?
Then she flushed.
Ohmigod, did he think she was hinting? That she wanted a relationship?
She'd rather eat maggots than have him think she was going to now try and latch on to him like a dryer sheet to Velcro. Even though the idea held certain appeal, she had sworn to herself that she would go into this night knowing it was a one time deal.
Mack was out of her league.
He was here to prove a point and get a little free action.
They could handle showing up at work on Monday with things the way they were right now. But if he started thinking that she was going to cling, or if she actually lost her mind and did start to cling, they were going to have a car wreck on their hands. Total disaster.
As he bit his sandwich, Kindra realized that this conversation crap needed to not happen. He was being too nice.
Why couldn't he be like most guys and just take what he wanted and roll over and go to sleep? Why did he have to say sweet things that showed she wasn't just a bedpost notch to him?
Telling her he knew she drank out of a wildflower mug, calling her beautiful. Geez, didn't he know that a woman hears things like that and starts hoping?
"Aren't you eating anything?" he asked, his mouth full.
"No, I'm not hungry." She was sick, actually.
She had gone and fallen for Mack.
Or rather, she'd fallen for Mack a year ago when he had first walked in the door at MicroDesign, but she had known then that she could never hope to catch his eye.
Well, now she had his eye, and other things, and she found her stupid little heart wishing for more still.
That had to stop. She ground her thoughts to a halt right there.
This was it. One night. Nothing more.
And it was all she was going to have. So she might as well kill the conversation and get back to why he was here in the first place.
Sex.
Plain and simple.
Just the thought of which had her skirt firing up like a gas grill.
"That was great," Mack said as he dusted the last crumbs off his mouth. "Thanks, I feel better."
"Good." She stood up, the rustle of her skirt on her legs re-minding her that her panties were still crumpled up on the floor in the office. Which was just as well. She had no intention of putting any underwear back on until Mack left.
"Come here, Mack, I want to show you something."
His contented look gave way to interest.
"Is this like, here, look at the pictures of my trip to London, or like, here, look at another dirty e-mail with me?"
Not having much experience tossing off sultry looks, Kindra wasn't sure if she was doing it right, but she gave it her best effort. Running her fingers through her hair, she said, "I've never been to London."
"Damn, Kindra." He stood up so fast, he knocked his chair over with a crash. "You are so sexy."
It wasn't a declaration of love by far, but it was a heck of a lot more than she'd had on Thursday. She'd take it. She'd take him.
Plus the fact that he was close to panting was downright gratifying. And the way his hands were groping her ass as he followed her down the hall was enough to embolden her.
She could do this. She wanted this.
When she stopped in the doorway of her office, Mack bumped up against her. His hard-on pressed into her and she rubbed herself back against him.
A nice low guttural moan rang from him.
Hands were up her skirt.
Whoa, too fast.
Swatting him away, she stepped into the room. "Just a minute."
"Why?" Mack reached for her again.
Feeling a little heady with power and desire, Kindra said, "Sit in the chair."
His eyebrows raised. "Why?" he repeated.
"Just do it." She pointed at the chair, heart thumping as she waited to see if he would obey her command.
Mack held his hands up in mock surrender and sauntered over to the chair. "Fine, I'll do it."
He dropped into the chair and spread his legs in a mascu-line slouch. He flung his arm over the back and tried to look nonchalant, but the bulge in his boxers gave him away.
Kindra smiled. Whatever her complicated feelings for Mack were, he certainly made her feel sexy. All woman. Confident in herself.
Avoiding the chair in case he might think to grab her or touch her, Kindra went to her computer. She had a camera to record onto her computer.
They were going to use it. Right now.
Turning it toward the center of the room, the carpet and Mack in the chair popped up on her screen. Adjusting it, she made sure that Mack's complete body was in view.
She was going to record herself having sex with Mack, and when she was alone after tonight, she could watch it. She would ache for Mack and this night together and she would get herself off to it.
No more Russ.
From now on, she'd have Mack. If not in person, then on her computer.
Mack looked frozen in the chair, his eyes wide, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. "Kindra?"
"Yes?" Two more steps and she would be on the screen with him.
"Did you just turn that camera on?"
"Yes." She stepped up to him and pushed her hands into the pockets of her denim skirt, tugging it down so her naval was exposed. "You don't mind, do you?"
His hand twitched on the back of the chair, his cock strained against his boxers. "Can I watch it with you later?"
She went wet, hot and fast, and the denim of her skirt rubbed against her moistness as desire raced through her. "Yes."