Page 35 of Ripped

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you’re watching?”

He shrugs. His eyes are closed. I go on high alert. Something’s wrong.

“Did something happen today?”

Connor turns onto his side and buries his face into my stomach, his arm curls around my waist, holding us together. My heart rate spikes instantly and that rage monster I’ve developed cracks his knuckles.

Connor mumbles something against my stomach.

“What was that, darling?” I try to lean back so I can hear what he’s saying, but Connor tugs me closer.

“Wyatt called me,” he says, a little louder. “Or I called Wyatt or whatever.”

Christ, of course it has to do with Wyatt or Miles. They just can’t leave Connor alone, can they? “What did he want?

“He said they’re in love.”

I don’t know how to feel about that. Shitty because of what it means for Connor. Good riddance since Connor doesn’t need them anymore. He’s got me. Either way, it’s no excuse for sleeping together behind his back. “Is that supposed to make what they did okay?”

Connor shoots up and spins to face me. “That’s what I said! He actually wants to do the grant interview together! Can you believe it? Together!”

My anger is chomping at the bit and I curl my fingers into the couch cushion in a feeble attempt to keep myself grounded. “What did you tell him?” My voice sounds surprisingly level, considering the amount of adrenaline coursing through my system.

“I told him to go fuck himself!”

My lips twitch. It’s not funny, but it’s pretty funny. “Yeah, you did.”

“Yeah! I did!” Connor’s eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed with color. He’s breathing hard and vibrating with energy like he’s in the middle of one of my classes. He’s gorgeous and I want to drag him straight to bed.

Then suddenly, he deflates like someone yanked the plug on him. “I told Wyatt to pull our grant application.”

Shit. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs, though it looks more like a full-body slump. “Yeah, well.”

I pull him to me, head on my shoulder, and I press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I talked to Rick about it. He says there will be other grants.”

Whoever this Rick is, I approve. “He’s right. There will be.”

“It’s just…”

“I know,” I say when Connor trails off. “It’s hard, I know.”

Connor lifts his head to look up at me. His eyes aren’t as bright as they were a moment before, but there’s something else in them now. A heat that ripples through me and settles in my groin.

I kiss him. I trace the curve of that plump bottom lip of his with my tongue, then draw it into my mouth to suck on it. He gasps and lets out a low needy sound. My hands are in his hair, holding him at the right angle as I swipe my tongue over his. He swipes back and we’re licking at each other until my head spins.

“Donnie,” he says with such vulnerability that my entire body reacts.

My dick is hard, my pulse is racing, my skin breaks out in goosebumps. He needs me and I want him and in this moment, nothing else matters.

I grab the back of his shirt and tug. Connor bends and the shirt comes right off him. I toss it away. He unzips my light jacket, pushes it off my shoulders, then takes the hem of my Mars t-shirt and pulls it over my head.

The light from the screen flickers over Connor’s body. He’s not ripped like so many of the other men at Mars. He’s wide and solid and he’s got a precious layer of padding around his middle. I run my fingers over him, loving how his body moves and bunches under my touch. He has this light blond fuzz everywhere—his shoulders, his forearms, his back—that makes me want to pet and stroke him all night.

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