Connor Hutcherson Age Novels & Stories

"450." I choked. "Equivalent to 24." Oh, that is reasonable. "Have you found your mate yet?" "Nope." I shook my head, "I am not even sure he exists." He does and he hates me. And then we began to talk and laugh. He was a really funny and sweet dude. He talked about his human mate and the little girl they just had who was a year old. He knew who I was and where I was from but he didn't seem judgemental. So I told him a few things of my own too and everything was going well between Connor and I till I smelt the devil himself.

“Warner.” My stomach knots. “It’s— it’s not what you’re thinking.” He's staring at me. Studying me. Connecting dots I should have kept miles apart. “That name …” he says softly. No. No no no. I sit up straighter in an instant. "It's a completely different person. Older guy. Late fifties. The person you're thinking of? He's not here." Connor's eyebrows shoot up. For a second I think he's going to call my bluff. Push me. Question me again.

He asked curiously jogging to keep up. the two were a mismatched pair, Koin was tall, almost 6'5 and bulky with dark hair and colorful eyes, and while he had a sense of humor, it seemed he naturally leaned towards anger. Connor on the other hand was only 5'7 and his muscles didn't seem to exist until he used them. Connor also talked a lot, much of the time before his brain could run the words through the filter of "Is this appropriate or kind?" None the less, after spending literally every moment together since they were 2 weeks old, Connor had become like a brother to Koin.

She said on the phone before she ended the call. "You should be grateful to the person that saved your mom's life. Don't be a jerk," She said to me before she finally left my room, and I released a deep sigh. My name is Connor Hughes, thirty-five years old first live-in son of the popular multi-billionaire in LA, Mr. Derek Hughes. Being the first son of the family, you can imagine the burden on me, right? I'm a depressed man hiding under the cover of being a billionaire. I am broken inside, and trying to heal from the pain of years ago that has turned me into a bitter man up until now.

A low, constant hum she couldn’t shake. Connor still looked like the man she’d met at twenty-four. Thirty-five now, tall, shoulders wide from years swinging hammers before he switched to site management. Dark hair always a little too long, falling over his forehead. Rough hands that could fix anything—or break her open in the best way. Lately their sex had turned careful. Quick. Lights off, door locked, both of them listening for small footsteps on the stairs. She missed the old hunger. The way he used to look at her like he’d die if he didn’t get inside her right then.

He said looking at Kolby with so much love and devotion. “Dude, you’re our brother of course, you can join our pack.” Connor and Dakota said in turns. Karson stared at Hunter. “Hunter if I may,” Hunter nodded for him to continue, “how old are you? You said you left home at twenty, Connor is twenty-one.”

By the end of the hour, her cheeks were flushed from more than exertion. “You’re picking it up crazy fast,” Connor said as they clicked out of their skis at the base. He was twenty-one, cocky in the way only lifelong mountain kids could be, sun-bleached hair poking from under his beanie, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, body carved from endless days on the slopes. “Most people your… most people need way more than one lesson.” “Most people my age, you mean?” Elise teased, arching a brow. At thirty-nine, she knew exactly how good she still looked, yoga-toned legs, subtle curves, dark hair spilling from her helmet in perfect waves.

When the doctor came out of the emergency room, Charlotte hastily walked up to him and asked, “How is Zachary?” The doctor wiped the drops of sweat on his forehead as he lamented, “Mr. Connor is truly amazing. I’ve been a doctor for almost 30 years, and I have never seen someone as physically fit as he is. If it were someone else, they would be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of their life. Mr. Connor is as fit as a fiddle. He only sustained some minor injuries, and he can be discharged from the hospital today.” Charlotte heaved a sigh of relief.

I tried to focus on the world outside, pushing back the overwhelming thoughts and the sadness that clung to me since I formed the bond with my mate. "We're going to this place called Shortie's," Conor replied. His tone was clipped, leaving me unsatisfied. I found myself stealing a glance at him. For all his rough edges, he was handsome in his own way. If he trimmed his beard and hair, he'd be quite attractive, especially for someone around my dad's age. But he was older than me, already in his late thirties.

I had him listed as a possible new recruit when he turns twenty-one but if he keeps eyeing my mate, I’ll send him to the Forbidden Forest before he lifts another weight. “Handing an overheated Omega some water?” Connor mutters. I glance to my right to see him holding a tablet in his hand, a look of confusion on his face. He’s watching Luca as he laughs at something Faythe has said before jogging back to his sparring partner; he’s lucky he’s walking away before Ahser realises another male was so close to our mate.