Dead Heat by Allison Brennan Page B

jagged scar marring his old, weathered face. He’d been working here longer than many of them had been alive, and most thought he was mute.
    He was neither mute, nor deaf.

 
    CHAPTER 7
    Lucy stretched in bed early Sunday morning, dawn cutting through the windows of the master bedroom she shared with Sean.
    “Good morning, princess,” Sean said and kissed her neck.
    She snuggled into him. Sean’s nearly naked body generated intense heat. How did he do that? She could wear flannel pajamas and be freezing. The best thing about living in San Antonio was the weather. It would be too hot in the summer but she’d take the heat of Texas over the cold of DC any day.
    “I have to go into the office this morning.”
    “Not for a couple hours. It’s only six.”
    She groaned. “Why is it that no matter how late I’ve been up I can’t sleep past six?”
    He pulled her to him and grinned. “We don’t have to get up.” He nuzzled her neck, planting light kisses over the sensitive skin behind her ear, down her neck, until his mouth reached her breast and she sighed.
    “I feel decadent,” she whispered.
    “You feel perfect.”
    Lucy closed her eyes as Sean woke up her body. Slow, easy morning sex was exactly what she needed to feel alive.
    But it was more than the comfortable merging of her body with Sean’s; it was him , the man who’d seen her at her best and her worst, the man who loved her unconditionally. Who had moved cross-country for her, who had captured her heart when she didn’t even know she had a heart to give. One look, she melted. One touch, she sighed.
    “Sean,” she murmured, her breath catching, as their rhythm, so perfect, so in tune, brought them both up and over the edge.
    He held her close to him, his hard body wrapping her tight. “I could go back to sleep about now,” he whispered.
    “Me, too,” she said. “Don’t let me.”
    She held him as he held her, and she savored the few moments of peace they had before the day officially began.
    Her stomach growled.
    “Lucia Kincaid!” Sean exclaimed.
    She buried her face in his chest, halfway between laughter and mortification. “I can’t believe you heard that.”
    “The neighbors could hear that grumble.” He rolled her on top of him and kissed her. “Go, shower, I’ll make breakfast.”
    “You don’t have to do that,” she began.
    He lightly slapped her naked bottom. “It’s an order.”
    “Bossy now, aren’t we?”
    He kissed her again, longer, teasing. “Go, before I keep you in bed all morning.”
    She smiled and crawled out of bed, stretching. He watched her, his head propped up on his hand, grinning. “You look at me like that and I won’t get the breakfast you promised.”
    “You stretch again like that and neither of us will care.” He got up and kissed her again, his hands molding her body like clay. “Go. Now,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.
    She reluctantly pulled away and went to shower. When she stepped back into the bedroom, Sean wasn’t there. She dressed in black slacks and a simple white top with black blazer, pulled her thick hair back into a wide clip, and put on just a touch of makeup. She carried her low-heeled black boots downstairs, her stomach growling again at the aroma coming from the kitchen. “Your cooking skills have improved,” she commented as she walked in.
    Sean was wearing a blue-and-white-checked apron and nothing else.
    “Dear God, Sean.”
    “You like?” He grinned mischievously as he set a plate of scrambled eggs with ham and cheese in front of her.
    “A half-naked man cooking for me in a beautiful house after good morning sex?”
    He frowned. “Just good?”
    She kissed him. “Very good. Extremely good.”
    “Hmm, we’re going to have to work on that. Tonight.”
    He poured her coffee, then helped himself to a plate of eggs. Lucy loved watching Sean. Not just because he looked like the Irish version of a Greek god, but because he enjoyed life. From the little