Bad Boys Online

by Erin McCarthy

  "Good."

  His eyes popped open. "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

  With a man in the room? She froze, her bra dangling in her hands, the urge to laugh overcoming her. Let's see, she could count the times on one hand… no, make that one finger.

  Once. And she was convinced it was a pure accident, since it had yet to be repeated.

  "What do you mean?" she hedged, twisting her bra between her hands.

  He laughed. He straightened up. Shoot. He was coming toward her. She took a step back.

  "It's a simple question. Have you ever had an orgasm?"

  "Yes."

  "During sex? Were you on top, the bottom, from behind maybe?"

  Her face started to burn. From behind? He could not be serious. "None of the above."

  He stopped right in front of her, and his fingers wrapped around the bra and yanked it away from her. He dropped it on the floor.

  "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.

  Chapter four

  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 jer
ked 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.

  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.

  It didn't even bother her to realize she was sitting there with her top pushed up and her skirt around her waist. Not when Mack was whispering such wonderful things in her ear.

  "Did you like that?"

  "Yes." Yes, a thousand times yes. And unless he was deaf and blind and devoid of all sensation in his skin, he knew she had enjoyed it.

  He rubbed his nose and mouth along her jaw. "I'm so glad you liked it. But we're not finished, you know."

  Mack seemed to have a talent for saying exactly what she wanted to hear.

  She shivered as his breath blew across her hot, sweaty skin. He was blowing onto her breasts, and her nipples hardened.

  "What's next?"

  He stood up. "Let's check."

  Then he was back at the computer again and Kindra adjusted her skirt back over her thighs as she thought about how many e-mails they had found in her trash. A dozen or so. Twelve hours.

  Ohmigod. She went warm all over.

  Though she couldn't remember exactly, Russ's e-mails were full of all sorts of naughty things, unique positions, and help her, if she wasn't mistaken there was one revolving almost entirely around spanking.

  Somehow she didn't think even Mack could get her to enjoy having her ass smacked.

  As he scanned the screen, Mack unbuttoned his shirt. It slid down his arms, revealing a bronzed back and shoulders, with rippling biceps that oozed strength and power. They were smooth, gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat, and he tossed his shirt to the floor negligently.