"I want to lick your nipples until you…"

Kindra jumped in her swivel seat as a low voice spoke over her shoulder.

Please don't let that be who she thought it was.

She turned. It was. "Ohmigod. Mack!"

"Whipping the mouse around on her desktop, she tried frantically to close the e-mail that was up on her computer screen. The dirty e-mail from her cyber partner, Russ. The dirty e-mail that was being read by her real live crush and coworker, Mack Stone.

God, where was the minimize button?

"Come like a rocket, hot and wet…" Mack's amused voice trailed off. "What is this?"

"Spam," she managed to say, a sweat breaking out under her white blouse and black jacket. "I get all kinds of junk e-mail."

Kindra clicked the close button as Mack's finger touched the screen.

"Then why does it have your name on it?"

"I don't think it did," she lied without compunction. There was no way she was admitting to Mack "different girlfriend every week" Stone, that she had been engaging in a cyber-affair.

"Yes, it did," he insisted.

Annoyed, she looked over her shoulder at him and gritted her teeth at his total and utter perfection. Why? Why did she have to spend every day for eight hours looking at this paragon of masculinity? From his short black hair, past the strong jaw, down to the broad chest and gorgeous pecs covered in GQ-inspired clothing, and continuing on down lower, he was perfect.

And very out of her league.

She glared at him, willing him to back away from her chair and take his arousing aftershave scent with him.