Real men hide their feelings, at least that's what Connor and Murphy believed in order to survive. Until Elena Jensen helps them open up through therapy before they escape prison and go back to work as the Saints. The boys learn Elena has some secre...
The early morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. Elena feels Connor's arm draped over her, their fingers unconsciously laced together. His chest is pressed against her back as he's still sleeping. And, for a moment, it feels like they're the only two people in the world.
Connor shifts closer, melting his body into hers and burying his half-asleep face in her hair. Elena twists her neck, catching his tired yet adoring eyes staring at her. She looks at his mouth, then flicks her eyes back to his, and they fast collide into a kiss.
They move and touch each other with a sense of intimate urgency. He slides his hand along her jaw, his palm cupping her face perfectly like it belongs there. She rolls onto her back as he lifts himself over her, their mouths never escaping each other. Connor's rosary swings like a pendulum across his bare chest, the wooden cross falling between them as he pulls Elena closer. He tastes her skin, and she runs her hands over his shoulders. They're breathing fast, almost in sync with each other.
She lifts her head and shoulders off the pillow enough to press her mouth harder against his. He rotates his hips to the side, either letting her sit up or pulling her up, she can't tell. She presses her hand against the nape of his neck, his slightly shaggy hair filtering through her fingers as she wraps her leg over him. His pelvis gives momentarily, sinking into the mattress while Elena props them both up with her other hand. Their lips are still finding each other, their tongues tangling together.
Connor holds her hip against his and wraps his other arm around her torso. The thin fabric of his boxers barely contains his growing erection, with the heat vibrating against her and echoing between her thighs. His hand spreads wide as he holds her back firmly, lifting her and rolling her into the bed on her back. He pulls his face away, pausing for just a moment so they can both confirm what's happening. Elena stares into his ocean-blue eyes, trying to catch her breath. A smile spreads on his face, and her cheeks glow with that same euphoria. Suddenly, he kisses her like it's the last thing they'll ever do.
"Holy shit!" Murphy's voice interrupts with a boyish laugh. Connor quickly rolls away from Elena, grabbing the blanket to pull up over them in the process. They try to stabilize their breathing as they watch Murphy rub a towel over his head, a grin spreading across his face.
Elena clutches the blanket tight against her, keeping her eyes forward, fighting from looking at Connor.
"Don't start," Connor warns his brother, breathless.
Murphy holds his hands up in surrender. But his smile fades as his eyes dart between Connor and Elena. "Oh, fuck..." As if the two people in bed don't radiate enough embarrassment into the room, Murphy stumbles through his words and can't keep up with the realization that hits him. "Um...shit, sorry," he says sheepishly, running his hand through his still-damp hair.
Finally, Elena looks at Connor, who mirrors her wide-eyed gaze. They turn their attention back to Murphy, who is haphazardly sliding on his t-shirt. Despite his cheeks blushing, Connor keeps his voice calm and low. "Murph, come on."
The dark-haired twin avoids looking at them as he searches the floor for his boots. "I'm just gonna step out and...leave ye two..."
Connor wipes his face, his tone more exasperated, "It's fine, Murph."
Elena's heart drops to her stomach, and she tries to mask the pang of disappointment. How could a moment change so fast, so unexpected? How could a moment be everything and nothing at the same time? How could that moment still hang in the air between them?
Carefully sliding out of bed, Elena averts her eyes from drifting back to Connor's bare chest. "I need a shower, too." She needed the excuse, anything to keep them from confronting each other over what just happened...or what could have happened...what should have happened.
She grabs her clothes from the armchair in the corner of the room and moves toward the bathroom. Murphy still avoids looking at her, keeping his eyes cast down on the floor as she walks by him.
Standing at the bathroom door, Elena steals a knowing glance at Connor, trying to read what he's thinking, what he wants. She swears he's talking to her without saying a word. His eyes soften and rest steadily on her, and she feels the simultaneous chill and heat of their attraction rush under her skin.
As she shuts the door, she realizes she's still holding her breath...holding Connor's gaze in her lungs. Finally, she exhales, steadying her breathing as she sits on the toilet, still clothed in her underwear.
Rubbing her face with both hands, Elena tries to sort through her racing thoughts. She should have disappeared a long time ago. She should have told Smecker off and refused to help the boys. She should have set better boundaries with Connor long before he and his brother broke out of prison.
But she can still taste him on her lips. She can still feel his fingers laced between hers. She can still see his eyes staring back at her, silently telling her what her heart is trying to say.
What he wants is what she wants.
Another moment here with you.
. . .
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