The two settled in, with Dominique planning out the rest of the week and Reggie making notes to ensure that his boss’s wishes were followed. Before either knew it, lunch time had arrived. Reggie returned to his desk and just as Dominique finished writing the editor’s note for the spring “get in shape” edition, her cell phone rang. She smiled and answered.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked without preamble.

“Just finished up a project and thinking about lunch. What about you?”

“Meet me at my house in fifteen minutes.”

Dominique scowled slightly. “Why?”

“Because it’s lunchtime, you’re hungry, and I’m cooking. Now stop asking questions and get over here.”

Dominique shivered even though her office thermostat was set on seventy-five degrees. She was surprised at her body’s reaction, given the fact that Jake had kept her up most of the night, leaving just before dawn. They’d made love twice but her body reacted as if it was love-starved and it had been eons since she’d experienced a man’s touch. Dominique looked at the day’s itinerary, noting that no other meeting was scheduled until three o’clock. She reached for her purse and headed toward the door as she answered, “I’m on my way.”

After making a quick stop at the bathroom, Dominique left the floors of Capricious magazine. Traffic was light, so she reached Jake’s house in ten minutes. His truck was parked in the drive and Dominique pulled her car up behind it. Feeling delicious and decadent, she placed her four-inch heels on the pavement and within seconds was knocking on Jake’s door.

“Damn, you look good.” That was Jake’s greeting before he folded Dominique in his arms and seared her with a long, wet kiss. Dominique’s bare nana screamed its agreement, the panties she’d shed in the bathroom now occupying a corner of her purse. Jake looked good, too, she decided, dressed in a tight navy tee and simple black warm-ups. His size-fourteen feet were encased in leather Jordans, and the woodsy scent that loosely clung to his body was about to drive a girlfriend wild. Dominique eased her hand into his waistband and pulled at his top.

“Whoa, wait a minute, baby. When I told you I’d fixed you a meal, I meant food.”

“Oh.”

Jake grabbed Dominique’s hand and led her toward the kitchen. That his chest puffed out a bit more at her obvious sexual hunger was an understatement. I’m the man was written all over his face. They passed Jake’s dining room en route to the kitchen. Indeed, there was a table setting for two, complete with water glasses already filled. They reached the kitchen and Jake grabbed a towel before opening the oven, pulling out two perfectly baked pieces of farm-fresh salmon.

“The plates are in the far left cabinet,” he said over his shoulder. “Salad bowls are there as well.”