the sandwich naked?”
Kindra standing there, bending over to retrieve the ham from the fridge, spreading mustard… now if only she would put the high heel shoes back on, they would really be onto something.
“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 it all 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 soft beige furniture and the kitchen was a soft yellow. It wasn’t frilly and fussy like some women preferred. Yet it was so much more personable than his white wall 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.
She smiled at Mack as he came into the kitchen. He was scratching his chest absently and he looked like 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 who she’d voted for in the last election, and she wouldn’t care. She flipped the light switch that flooded the back yard 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 the date knowing it was only one night.
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, she 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
Kindra standing there, bending over to retrieve the ham from the fridge, spreading mustard… now if only she would put the high heel shoes back on, they would really be onto something.
“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 it all 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 soft beige furniture and the kitchen was a soft yellow. It wasn’t frilly and fussy like some women preferred. Yet it was so much more personable than his white wall 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.
She smiled at Mack as he came into the kitchen. He was scratching his chest absently and he looked like 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 who she’d voted for in the last election, and she wouldn’t care. She flipped the light switch that flooded the back yard 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 the date knowing it was only one night.
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, she 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
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