bringing her mouth to his, devouring her lips, his tongue mimicking his penis. He wasn’t moving in and out, he was moving in and deeper, and her body shuddered all on its own, shaking as his orgasm ignited hers. Sean swallowed her cry as he held her body tight against him, his muscles rigid.
“God, Lucy,” he muttered as she felt his final release.
Sweaty, she collapsed on top of him, all liquid and hot and satisfied. She sighed, her mind still empty as her body came down from overdrive. Sean’s rapidly beating heart soothed her. She could stay like this forever.
Sean felt Lucy drifting off to sleep. He shifted her to his side, and she murmured into his chest, “That was nice.”
“Only nice?” he whispered, trying to pull a blanket around Lucy even though she wasn’t budging. He maneuvered the comforter back onto the bed and put it over them. Too hot for him, but Lucy would get cold.
“Very nice?” Her eyes were closed but she had a half-smile on her lips. He kissed her. “Perfect?”
“Honey, that was too fast to be perfect.”
“That’s okay.”
“Why?”
“No time to think.”
Long after Lucy fell asleep, Sean thought about her comment and wondered what she meant—or if she even realized what she’d said.
TWELVE
Lucy didn’t know what she’d been expecting to find in the mine when she and Sean ventured into the cavern on Friday morning, but nothing jumped out at her as odd. In the storage room, she stared at the spot where the dead woman had been lying two days ago and saw nothing but rock and dirt.
“What do you want me to do?” Sean asked.
She hadn’t wanted Sean to come down with her. He still wasn’t one hundred percent after his fall, and though he tried to hide the pain she knew his leg hurt. However, now she was relieved she wasn’t alone in the dark, frigid space. It seemed ridiculous to be scared of something that wasn’t even here. It was like being in a haunted house. Purely fiction, the imagination creating all sorts of implausible outcomes because of fear.
She gestured to the alcove. “She was right there.”
Their breath was visible. Though nearing fifty degrees topside, it was still below thirty here underground.
Why would someone keep the body in the mine ?
To store it .
Down here it was as cold or colder than the crypt at the morgue. A body would decompose slowly or, if frozen, not at all.
Sean took her hand. “Do what you need to do,” he said.
She closed her eyes. She wanted to see the woman as she had been, the unique and musty scents of the cave triggering Lucy’s memory.
Her hair had been limp and darker than true blond, but that could have been because of the moisture. The skin had been only slightly molted, very pale, showing no obvious physical decomposition. But in these cold environs, the body could have been there a week or for months.
“She was laid out straight, flat on her back,” Lucy said, glancing at Sean. “Her arms were crossed over her chest. She wore dark slacks—not jeans—and a very dirty white blouse. No jacket or sweater.”
“Odd for this climate.”
Lucy nodded. “Her skin tone was almost identical to the corpses in the cold storage room at the morgue, but given her clothes, it stands to reason she was killed in a warm place, or at least not outdoors. I can’t see why the killer would have removed her coat, but not her other clothes, unless there was something on it that would identify him.”
“What about her shoes?”
Lucy sighed. “I didn’t look.”
“You saw them—you just don’t remember. Close your eyes again.”
She did, but didn’t know how this would help. She hadn’t made a conscious observation about the dead woman’s shoes, and she didn’t want her imagination conjuring something.
But as she mentally assessed the body as she’d seen it, she realized she had seen something. “Dark. Flat. No shoelaces. Loafers maybe, some sort of slip-on.”
“Good,” Sean said.
She smiled, pleased
“God, Lucy,” he muttered as she felt his final release.
Sweaty, she collapsed on top of him, all liquid and hot and satisfied. She sighed, her mind still empty as her body came down from overdrive. Sean’s rapidly beating heart soothed her. She could stay like this forever.
Sean felt Lucy drifting off to sleep. He shifted her to his side, and she murmured into his chest, “That was nice.”
“Only nice?” he whispered, trying to pull a blanket around Lucy even though she wasn’t budging. He maneuvered the comforter back onto the bed and put it over them. Too hot for him, but Lucy would get cold.
“Very nice?” Her eyes were closed but she had a half-smile on her lips. He kissed her. “Perfect?”
“Honey, that was too fast to be perfect.”
“That’s okay.”
“Why?”
“No time to think.”
Long after Lucy fell asleep, Sean thought about her comment and wondered what she meant—or if she even realized what she’d said.
TWELVE
Lucy didn’t know what she’d been expecting to find in the mine when she and Sean ventured into the cavern on Friday morning, but nothing jumped out at her as odd. In the storage room, she stared at the spot where the dead woman had been lying two days ago and saw nothing but rock and dirt.
“What do you want me to do?” Sean asked.
She hadn’t wanted Sean to come down with her. He still wasn’t one hundred percent after his fall, and though he tried to hide the pain she knew his leg hurt. However, now she was relieved she wasn’t alone in the dark, frigid space. It seemed ridiculous to be scared of something that wasn’t even here. It was like being in a haunted house. Purely fiction, the imagination creating all sorts of implausible outcomes because of fear.
She gestured to the alcove. “She was right there.”
Their breath was visible. Though nearing fifty degrees topside, it was still below thirty here underground.
Why would someone keep the body in the mine ?
To store it .
Down here it was as cold or colder than the crypt at the morgue. A body would decompose slowly or, if frozen, not at all.
Sean took her hand. “Do what you need to do,” he said.
She closed her eyes. She wanted to see the woman as she had been, the unique and musty scents of the cave triggering Lucy’s memory.
Her hair had been limp and darker than true blond, but that could have been because of the moisture. The skin had been only slightly molted, very pale, showing no obvious physical decomposition. But in these cold environs, the body could have been there a week or for months.
“She was laid out straight, flat on her back,” Lucy said, glancing at Sean. “Her arms were crossed over her chest. She wore dark slacks—not jeans—and a very dirty white blouse. No jacket or sweater.”
“Odd for this climate.”
Lucy nodded. “Her skin tone was almost identical to the corpses in the cold storage room at the morgue, but given her clothes, it stands to reason she was killed in a warm place, or at least not outdoors. I can’t see why the killer would have removed her coat, but not her other clothes, unless there was something on it that would identify him.”
“What about her shoes?”
Lucy sighed. “I didn’t look.”
“You saw them—you just don’t remember. Close your eyes again.”
She did, but didn’t know how this would help. She hadn’t made a conscious observation about the dead woman’s shoes, and she didn’t want her imagination conjuring something.
But as she mentally assessed the body as she’d seen it, she realized she had seen something. “Dark. Flat. No shoelaces. Loafers maybe, some sort of slip-on.”
“Good,” Sean said.
She smiled, pleased
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