was in every touch and smile.
The water turned on in the bathroom, and her panties—had she been wearing any—went wet. Just the thought of him naked in the shower was enough to make her hot.
She reached behind her and grabbed a skillet, her heels clicking against the wood floor. She’d never cooked in the buff before. Then again, she’d also never had a sexy man in her shower who had a thing for her apron. The apron that she’d embroidered, in a moment of sheer giddiness, with the words Morning, Hot Stuff.
After pouring the eggs in the skillet, Lexi slid the frittata in the oven when a low whistle of male appreciation greeted her.
She closed the oven and turned around. Marc leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, in nothing but a towel and wet skin. Lucky girl that she was, the towel was around his neck and not his middle, which was wide-awake. She stood there for a moment savoring the view of him. Thankfully, she had closed all of the blinds, because the man was so handsome he was dangerous—naked, he was lethal.
And this morning he was all hers.
“Hey,” she said, surprised at how shy her voice sounded. At how shy she suddenly felt as his eyes dropped to her morning greeting plastered across her chest.
He didn’t speak, just flashed her that heart-melting grin of his and twirled his finger in the air, motioning for her to turn around. Slowly, she obliged, giving a little shake when her back was in view, before facing him again.
Without a word, he moved in. Three strides and he had her pinned between the counter and the hard planes of his body. Then he kissed her. She opened immediately and moaned when his tongue slipped inside. He tasted like toothpaste and rugged man, a combination so potent it had her shaking worse than her usual double dose of espresso.
He was warm, strong, and 100 percent male, which left her feeling very feminine. She could get used to mornings like this. The way he was pressed against her, running his big hands everywhere he felt bare skin, made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing.
When they came up for air, her arms were circling his neck, legs tight around his waist, and she was seated on the counter, the cool tile pressing against her skin.
“That was a nice way to start the day.” She kissed him again.
“That was me making sure you got the good in your morning.” He placed a finger above the word Morning on her apron and traced the word Good right across her good parts.
“And this—” He reached out and tugged the neckline of her apron lower, past her collarbone, past the swell of her breast, past the tops of her nipples, which hardened under his gaze and jutted just over the fabric. “This is a great morning.”
“You hungry?” She ran her hands through his hair, still damp from his shower.
“Starved.”
“I have breakfast in the oven.”
“Not for that.”
The top of the apron strained and went taut, preventing him from pulling it down as far as he wished. At least, she figured that was what his pout was about. Adorable frown in place, he went for the tie around her neck to loosen it.
She swatted his hand away and giggled. He didn’t giggle—and he didn’t move his hand, except to cup her breast, which he’d finally freed, and run his thumb over her nipple.
“Did I wake you?” she asked, not sure what to do with her hands. She’d never had kitchen sex before. But considering that they had christened every other room in the house, she shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
He took her hand and placed it on his erection and smiled. “Don’t be.”
Then his mouth was on her breast. The sensation of his tongue on her skin had her heart thundering against her ribs. When his hands slid up and under the hem of the apron, along the inside of her thigh and higher, her brain went into a meltdown. He pushed her legs apart. She didn’t giggle this time, nor did she bother stopping him.
“I do prep on this counter,” Lexi whispered, no longer embarrassed to be bared and spread for his viewing pleasure.
Marc rucked the apron around her hips and dropped to his knees.
“Sugar, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” he said and then disappeared under her apron and began the long process of prepping for his breakfast in bed.
“What do you mean he isn’t letting Simon