7 Days of Seduction by Jenna Jaxon Page A

now and her stomach lurched.
    "Okay. Go get cleaned up. I'll be in the kitchen when you're done." He cupped her cheeks, his big hands warm and reassuring as he peered into her eyes. More like into her soul. Then he released her and she fled to the bathroom.
    She had no idea how long it had taken to almost repair the damage and hoped Hunter hadn't given her up in disgust. Her face still looked blotchy and her eyes could have been an ad for a Visine commercial. Otherwise, she hoped she passed muster. Drawing a deep breath, she clicked off the light and headed toward the kitchen, only now wondering what he would be up to in that room.
    A pungent aroma of coffee hung in the air as she rounded the corner. The overhead fluorescents cast their normal harsh light over a not-so-normal scene. Hunter turned from the stove, a frying pan in hand. The table was set for one and he nodded her toward the seat already pulled out for her. Moments later, he slid a fluffy omelet onto her plate, cheese and mushrooms oozing from the side. He poured black coffee into her cup.
    "Cream or sugar?"
    "I thought you were supposed to drink it black." She grimaced. One reason she slept off her binges was disgust at the thought of black coffee.
    "Myth. The coffee just wakes you up, so cream and sugar don't matter. So you take both?" He set the pot down and grabbed the bottle of Vanilla Caramel creamer from the fridge.
    "Just the creamer. It's sweet enough." She poured a generous dollop into the steaming cup. For someone who didn't drink, he sure knew a lot about the after-effects.
    Delectable smells from the omelet mixed with the coffee and her stomach gave a growl of approval. She'd opted for alcohol rather than food before their date. Not knowing what to expect from Hunter had made her apprehensive. And excited. She'd had to change her panties twice before the alcohol had calmed her nerves. God, just the thought of what he might do to her made her wet. So she could choose either panty liners or rum and coke. And if he was so set against booze, next time it would be the liners.
    She grabbed a fork, gave him a quick smile, then cut off a bite and popped it into her mouth. An explosion of flavor, more than just egg and cheese, widened her eyes.
    "This is delicious." Her words came out muffled as she savored the concoction. "What did you put in it?"
    "A bit of this and that. You have a fairly well stocked spice rack." He grinned and she relaxed even more. Apparently, he'd forgiven her. "But I take it you don't cook?"
    She shook her head and continued to plow through the omelet. The man was phenomenal. Not only the best damn lay she'd ever had, but he could cook. And well. What other talents would she discover?
    "This is going to sober me up?" she asked between bites.
    "Myth number two. Only time sobers you up. I figured feeding you would be a pleasant way to kill the time until you're sober enough for the real fun and games." A dark flash from his brilliant eyes arrested her breath. "Remember what I said about keeping up your strength."
    Heat erupted throughout her body, as if a switch had been flicked on, shooting her temperature skyward. Her stomach flipped at the wild imagery that rose in her mind. Her fork clattered to the table.
    "You want some of this?"
    He grinned and pulled the plate toward him "Want me to keep up my strength too, do you?"
    Suddenly, she could laugh about it, butterflies having flown the coop. "Of course. It wouldn't be too much fun for me to play by myself, now would it?"
    "With yourself, perhaps, but alone, no." His chuckle washed over her, calming her and somehow putting them on equal footing. This was Hunter. And though she hadn't known him all that long, they seemed to have passed some threshold of trust now. She could take whatever he had in mind to throw at her. That realization filled her with a power and confidence she'd never known with him.
    She spent the next hour and a half talking and touching him-- hands, arms, fingers,