Wilde Brothers

by Bella Court

  Sometime during the night, he had draped a thick comforter over her to keep her warm, and for some reason, it had been the best night of sleep that she had ever had in years.

  Kristen bit her lower lip, as she felt her eyes soften at the thought of Connor. Last night, she had been too drunk and upset to really care or appreciate all he was doing for her, but this morning, in the broad light of day, there was no denying that he cared for her. He had to. There had to be some measure of caring for him to do what he did for her. The thought of it melted her heart and sent a rush of affection through her.

  She simply couldn't help herself. He looked too adorable for her not to do it. Leaning forward, she lightly pressed a soft kiss to his warm, stubbly cheek.

  He stirred a little at her touch, and his eyes opened a crack, slightly disoriented, before slowly coming into focus. The first thing that came into his mind was that he needed to get some bloody curtains or something for those stupid windows. But the first thing that came into his line of vision was Kristen.

  Her hair was completely messy and on the verge of becoming an afro that would make her die of mortification, but she never looked more beautiful. She was smiling at him. A true smile that reached her eyes and made them shine with intensity.

  "This isn't such a bad way to wakeup,” Connor murmured. His neck was aching, but he never felt better.

  "Morning, sunshine,” Kristen said softly, and tentatively, she reached forward to brush Connor's long hair out of his face to reveal those eyes of his that could melt her with a glance.

  He blinked several times, as more light entered. "I think I need some curtains," he muttered, cracking his neck. Amusedly, he watched Kristen cringe at the sound.

  "I think you need to take a cold shower,” Kristen said, staring pointedly at his crotch. Shit... "Sorry, I think it was partially my fault. I kinda move around a lot in my sleep."

  "You should help me get rid of it in the cold shower I'll be taking, then." Connor lifted his eyebrows suggestively, and Kristen laughed out loud.

  "Maybe later."

  "Too bad. I'll leave my bathroom door open just in case."

  So Connor had a bit of Reece in him, as well. She chuckled at that, as she watched him stand up and stretch. His shirt tightened wonderfully over his broad muscles, and Kristen didn't try and hide her fascination. She was almost tempted to take him up on his offer.

  Sure enough, he left the bathroom door wide open, and Kristen almost let out a disappointed moan that his shower curtains weren't the clear, plastic kind.

  Instead, she busied herself looking around his kitchen. State of the art silver stove tops and counters spread the length of an entire wall, with a gorgeous little bar-island that looked out into the living room. She was suddenly struck by the urge to cook or do something equally nice for Connor, but hell, who was she kidding? She couldn't cook.

  Opening the sleek fridge, it looked like Connor wasn't much of a chef, himself. Beer, orange juice, and some milk made up the contents of his fridge. Well, one thing even Kristen couldn't screw up was cereal.

  Pouring the milk over her cereal, she suddenly felt a warm, radiating heat on her back.

  "Not much of a cooker?"

  She jumped a little as she felt his breath against the bare skin of her neck.

  "You don't have much in your fridge for me to work with,” she replied, spooning some cereal into her mouth, turning to face him, only to find herself staring and blushing like a virginal schoolgirl.

  He was wearing a pair of green plaid boxers, with a towel draped lazily over the top of his wet, disheveled hair. She tried hard not to stare at the little beads of water that clung to his bare, tanned skin, and with reluctance, she drew her gaze away from his abs, trailing her eyes over his toned body to meet a pair of amused gray eyes. He was grinning broadly, and he knew all too well what she was staring agape about.

  "Want some cereal?" Kristen asked, blushing, slightly disgusted with herself for acting like she'd never seen a guy before.

  His eyes still twinkling, he opened his mouth, while Kristen quickly shoveled a big spoonful of soggy cereal into his mouth.

  "If you stare any harder, I might just burst into flames," he teased, his mouth half full. Kristen rolled her eyes, and kept her gaze firmly on his handsome face.

  "Please, Fabio. We all know you've got a great body, but we're not heading to a calendar shoot or a Harlequin romance sketch, so would you mind putting on a shirt?” she asked sweetly, running a finger up and down the length of his abs, to try and regain control of the situation. A slightly dazed look popped into his eyes for a second, before fully disappearing to reveal a smirk.

  "Sure, if it's bothering you that much."

  He had no idea how bothered she was by his lack of a shirt, and she waited until he turned around to let out a silent sigh of relief and quickly fan her reddening cheeks.

  "Better?” he asked, turning back to face her, grinning at the adorable shade of pink her cheeks had turned. She nodded silently, her feet dangling, as she had seated herself up on his gray granite counter. "Gimme some cereal," he demanded, grabbing a spoon from a nearby drawer, and taking a scoop from her bowl, despite her protests.

  They sat in companionable silence, taking turns eating the cereal from the bowl until it was all gone. She set the bowl aside, and nervously she messed with her fingers. What should she say?

  "Thanks, Connor. For letting me stay here, it was really, really, really nice of you. I guess…I should be going,” she said the words, but she made no motion to leave. Truth be told, she didn't want to leave. Being alone wasn't the most appealing of thoughts, especially after their flirtatious morning.

  Connor shrugged. "There's no rush, you can hang out here if you want, it's a Saturday, no work."

  "I'm surprised you don't work on Saturdays."

  Connor froze for a second and reluctantly admitted, "I usually do."

  "Why do you work so much?" Kristen inquired, not stopping to linger on what it meant that he was actually not working to spend time with her.

  Connor shrugged, leaning back against the counter, "It's just…what I do."

  He was being tight lipped about his life, as usual, but Kristen pressed ahead. "Yeah, but why? Why are you a workaholic when you don't need to be?"

  Connor lifted a skeptical brow. "If you're trying to psychoanalyze me and find out if there's something traumatic that happened in my past to cause me to be this way, you're barking up the wrong tree. I've always been this way. I don't half ass things. If I do something, I do it right. And that's the same doctrine I apply to my job. I work my hardest to bring Wilde Finances to the top."

  "But it's not just that, is it?" Kristen persisted. There was more. She could feel it. Whatever he just told her, it was something he probably told everyone who asked. There was something underneath that carefully worded response he gave her. She knew because she did the exact same thing.

  "Come on, tell me the truth, here. You've seen me cry more times than my own mother has, you've seen me drunk, and you've seen me naked. I think I deserve to hear a little something about you."

  Connor muffled a laugh, as he glanced at her. She was right of course. For a girl who was supposedly cold as ice, she certainly seemed to break down whenever she was around Connor a lot.

  "You want the truth? I'm afraid its not as interesting as you're hoping it to be. Fact of the matter is, I work because I've got nothing else to do. I'm not like John, who is everyone's best friend." He paused to gauge her reaction at the sound of his name, but she only nodded understandingly. "It's been years since I've had my last long term girlfriend, and well, when you don't have someone to spend your time with, the days seem to go by real slowly. Work speeds things up."

  Kristen was shocked. She could hear the slightest bit of loneliness in his voice. She scooted herself over the counter so that she was directly in front of him.

  "How can you still be single?" she demanded, staring at the man. Seriously. How was he still si
ngle? He might have been a workaholic, but he was such a catch that it was ridiculous that he not have someone.

  Connor smirked, "Being a workaholic is a vicious cycle. I'm not with someone because I'm too busy working, and I'm too busy working because I don't have someone. Besides, it's not like I'm the easiest person to talk to in the world. I'm no John."

  He looked away from her for a moment, and she followed his gaze to a framed picture sitting on the edge of the kitchen bar. It was a picture of John and Connor. They had the man hug thing going on, a hand draped loosely around the other's shoulders. They were wearing basketball jerseys, and they both looked so young and happy.

  "I heard about you a long time ago, you know. I was still in Japan, and John sent over a picture of the two of you. You look a lot different now than you did in the picture. That's why I didn't recognize you right away when you were at the wedding. When I first saw your picture, I remember…I remember feeling jealous. That was the first time in my life that I ever felt inadequate. Here my baby brother was, getting married, and I hadn't had a single relationship in years.

  "I hated myself for feeling that way. I mean, what kind of brother am I to be jealous of my baby brother's happiness?" He sounded so bitter, so upset with his own realization of his feelings, that Kristen felt a rush of sadness for him.

  "Is that why you didn't come to our wedding?" Kristen asked softly, gently covering his large hand with her own small one.

  Connor's jaw clenched uncomfortably, and for a long while, he didn't say a word. Finally, he opened his mouth and let out a quiet but audible, "Yes and no. I was scheduled to come in the day before your wedding, but my flight got cancelled because there was a big blizzard in Hokkaido where I was doing business. I wouldn't make it in time for the wedding, and…I was secretly relieved. I took the next flight in, but by then, I missed all the action."

  He was looking down at the ground in an unconscious act of shame, and suddenly, his eyes lifted to meet hers, a flash of vulnerability going across them momentarily. The next second, he looked stricken, as if he had said too much. To cover, he laughed, but it came out dry sounding, "What a great brother I am, eh?"

  Kristen squeezed his hand gently. "It doesn't make you a bad person or a bad brother to feel the way you do,” she said softly.

  "It doesn't?" he scoffed disbelievingly.

  "No, it doesn't. It makes you human. What matters is that you tried to come, and something out of your control changed that,” she spoke with a wisdom and comfort that only a woman could offer.

  "You know what John told me once? He told me that one of the things that attracted him to me was that I had your confidence. You may not be the most talkative guy or the most open person, but you don't have to be to be a good person. I know that, and John knows that.” She remembered how crushed John had been when he found out that Connor's flight had been cancelled. John idolized his older brother with such intensity that it was like he was a five year old tagging after his older brother again.

  Connor offered her a weak smile. "You don't flinch when we talk about John now."

  "I don't love him anymore,” she spoke without thinking, and she surprised herself with how true that statement was. She didn't love him anymore. She had stopped loving him for quite a while now, maybe even before she went to John and Melissa's wedding. She was just so sure she did, being so bent on revenge and anger.

  "You don't?" He sounded as surprised, as she was.

  She smiled but more to herself than to Connor. "No, I don't."

  Out of nowhere, she punched him in the shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance. Connor looked slightly bewildered, she was surprisingly strong. "Okay, enough of all that. What is this, a secret taping of Dr. Phil? Is he going to pop out any moment and tell us how messed up we are?"

  Connor laughed, as she leapt off the counter. "You're always making me cry," Kristen accused, turning to face him.

  "What? I don't make you cry, you make yourself cry. You just come running to me for comfort because as you so eloquently put it last night, you like me." He shot back, looking highly affronted and uncomfortable by the idea that he had possibly brought her to tears.

  Kristen reddened, hating the fact that she felt that same sense of girly nervousness one felt when they were around someone they really liked. She spluttered in her defense, "I was smashed, you can't listen to a thing I say when I'm drunk."

  "Oh really?"

  "Really. Unless...” She paused, looking up at Connor coyly beneath her eyelashes, knowing damn well it was a flirting technique that worked so well in her favor. "...Well…do you like me?"

  "Let's see. I let you stay over in my apartment, you're wearing my clothes, and we've had sex. All in all, I'd have to say I pretty much despise you,” Connor said in his most serious voice. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him. Even through his shirt, she could feel the hard planes of his body against her soft curves, and she involuntarily let out a squeal.

  "Well, I despise you as much as you despise me,” she whispered, as her face tilted up towards his.

  "You must not hate me very much, then." His lips were inches from her own, and she could feel the warm waves of heat that were emanating from his body, and it was making her breathless. No one had ever before made her breathless, and the knowledge of that scared her a little. Her breathing came in soft little pants, billowing against the edge of Connor's lips, as his eyes bored into hers. It was an experience like no other.

  "Nope, not at all,” she whispered, as his lips touched hers in a sweet, electrifying kiss.

  Her fingers fisted the bottom of his shirt, as his lips melded over hers, and she let out a satisfied moan that reverberated through both of their mouths. She almost whined as his lips left hers, but when she saw how heavily he was breathing, and how bright and wide his eyes were, she knew he was as affected as she was. They stood, their foreheads touching, staring at one another. His eyes were like liquid silver, soft and inviting. Kristen had been kissed millions of times before, but now, her heart was racing, and she could feel her knees going slightly weak. Is this what she had been missing out on her whole life?

  "Kristen," Connor breathed raggedly. He barely knew her, but the sense of chemistry and need he always felt around her overwhelmed him. The thought of what John would react nicked at his conscience, but he pushed it away. Kristen was one of a kind, and unlike his brother, he saw her for who she really was and not who he wanted her to be.

  "I think I–" He was cut off by the jarring sound of Kristen's ring tone from across the room. She cringed at the sound of the song that she had once found so amusing, but now it just grated on her nerves. He was on the verge of saying something important–she could feel it. It was like how women could sense that men were going to propose, it was just that innate female wisdom, and damn her phone for ruining it.

  "Yes?" Kristen urged, ignoring the phone.

  Connor's mouth went dry, as he abruptly leaned away from her, and Kristen's body instantly shivered from the lack of warmth his body had so deliciously provided.

  "You should get that."

  And just like that, he had closed himself off so quickly and neatly that Kristen, herself, couldn't have done it better. His eyes had shut off, and the arrogant glint was back in his eyes. Sadly, she realized she wasn't going to be able to pry anything out of him for now, at least. With some reluctance, she headed over to pick up her stupid cell. It was Jade. She had slept with Reece. It was her first time and she was crying down the phone to Kristen for almost an hour.

  Connor had left the room to give her some privacy but re-entered once Jade had finally calmed down and hung up. They sat down together to watch some TV. A few minutes later, Kristen's hand reached to touch his. Gentle butterfly touches from her fingers ran across his inner wrist. Suddenly, his mouth went dry, and while his eyes were intently on the TV screen, the light tracing of her hands across his entranced every fiber of his being.

  She probably didn't even real
ize what she was doing, but it was the first time she had initiated an action so intimate of her own accord. Hands were such an intimate and underestimated body part, and holding hands was an action that came surprisingly difficult for most people. Connor, included.

  Finally, her hands intertwined with his after what felt like an eternity of teasing butterfly touches. She was humming softly, her soft breaths coming between parted lips.

  He couldn't stop watching her. He was fascinated by her movements, the ones she didn't even realize she was doing. Finally, she noticed him watching her, and she smiled up at him. A smile that was more than a hollow shell of what she usually gave.

  "What?” she asked curiously.

  He didn't know. He didn't know what. Everything he was feeling was completely foreign.

  "Nothing," Connor shook his head rigorously, and as he did so, a lock of his long dark hair fell into his eyes. With all the work lately, it had grown even more unruly since he hadn't had the time to get it cut.

  Instantly, her hands reached up to brush it away, the pads of her fingertips brushing his temples. She did it again to his other side. It was slowly beginning to drive him insane.

  "Your hair's getting long. You should get it cut. I can cut if for you if you want," Kristen offered.

  "You cut hair?" Connor asked. Kristen nodded her head proudly.

  "Yep, hey, I should get going. I've got a few errands to run. Let me know about the haircut, okay?" Kristen stood up, and instead of letting go of his hand, she pulled him up with her. "Did I forget anything?” she asked, more to herself than him, and looking across the room, she spotted her dress from the night before draped neatly over an armchair.

  "Ah!" Still not relinquishing her hold on his hand, she dragged him over to the chair and grabbed her dress in one arm, and finally, she let go of his hand, so that she could grab her clutch with the other.

  She turned around to find Connor with a very smug grin on his handsome face.