Kit Connor Muscles Novels & Stories

Connor shared with me. “He would have no reason to extend her punishment. She had nothing to do with my kidnapping,” I replied. “It still pisses me off that she may be out and free in a few hours,” Connor said as he walked towards me. “You need to keep practicing. I do not want her to find any weaknesses,” Connor told me.

He has the most deformed face that is an awful grey with veins that are protruding. Connor only looks at the rest of us, "Oh, fuck."

They might not be expecting us to take it that far, but that's what the fuck we're gonna do, we're gonna treat this like any other Op. Connor had gone into command mode. I guess he'd given this shit a lot of thought. It was different for both of us; we had women to protect now. This shit was fucked None of us were too much into the job after that, and it was no surprise when we knocked off right on time. I wanted to get back to my woman and eyeball her to make sure she was okay. I'd put an icepack between her thighs before leaving the house this morning and ordering her to keep her shit iced until it didn't look like she'd been in a knockout bout with the champ. I'm thinking a good tongue fu

I turned to see Connor sitting on the chair in the corner of my room watching me and he said, "I am not rejecting you and I won't accept your rejection, so put that out your pretty little head, mate." Connor got up and walked over to me, he was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt with a necklace around his neck showing he was T.J.'s Gamma. He wore black jeans and boots, had the club ring on his hand and a tattoo on his neck, and was blonde with blue eyes and dimples when he smiled. He was around 6'0 feet with a muscular build but not buffed muscular, his scent was of wood and rain, like in the forest. He looked into my eyes and said, "So, what's it going to be, mate," and I backed away, his gaze

Wasn't today supposed to be a special day for them to compete and show their skills? Kylie paused, momentarily taken aback. Perhaps Salvador didn't believe her. She quickly turned to instruct someone to bring Connor out. With the help of Ryan and Lydia, Connor was led forward. As soon as Ryan had heard of Connor's discomfort, he rushed to check on him. Although there had been tension between them in the past, their time spent together in recent days had allowed a bond to form. Connor was looking much better, though his face was still pale and he seemed drained. Upon seeing his dad, a flicker of fear crossed his eyes. But remembering the encouraging words of Carissa and Marjorie, he found the

Knox and Conrad were sparring. And for a moment… I forgot how to breathe. The training room was wide, with high stone walls and tall windows that let sunlight flood across the polished wooden floor. Knox stood in the center. He was bare chester, exposing those abs and ripped powerful biceps, hreveb had tattoos on his chest, Moon goddess save me now. His muscles flexed with every movement as he circled Conrad. His skin glistened slightly with sweat. Every strike was fast and powerful.

Connor stayed in his brother’s room, sitting in a dark corner, allowing his brother’s mate to be there for him. “Kyde, please lay down next to mate, skin to skin. Let him feel us.” Diamond told her. “I can feel Diesel, he’s helping to heal Kota, they both are working hard to come back to us. He said that Connor’s blood is working but we need to stay by his side.” Diamond told her. “Connor, can you help me.” she asked. “Sure.” He said, getting up to help her. “Diamond said that I need to lay with him skin to skin.” Connor nodded.

"A good man's tenor voice is like the music that started the Universe. Girls are too shrill unless they're a really smokey alto. Tenors... mm, that is all..." "I almost forgot you were a musician. You were already too perfect for words." "You, Connor, are an inveterate flirt." "Pot, meet kettle," he retorted. "Nah. I don't flirt. I devour. Rawr." "Oh, really?" I wriggled slightly, then snorted. "I'd show you if I weren't so goddamn sore." "Speaking of... I have some pretty good muscle and bruise salve. I play hockey," he added defensively, as I gave him a dubious glance.

Full on pounding like they were trying to wake the whole floor. I groaned, rolled over, stumbled to the door in my underwear. Peered through the peephole. Connor. Fuck. Connor was our ace pitcher. 6 '4 " easy, shoulders that looked like they could bench a truck, arms thick from years of throwing heat. Legs like tree trunks, chest that filled out every team shirt until the fabric looked painted on. The dude lived in the weight room. Protein shakes for breakfast, lunch, dinner. Everyone called him Captain Protein behind his back, but to his face it was just Connor or Connie. He was the guy who carried the vibe on the team, always laughing loudest, always ready with a dumb one liner. Right now

“Kill them all.” A thunderous charge pursued them. Some warriors shifting, others staying with their leaders as they followed behind their swell of aggression. Connor could feel them like a wave of heat lapping at his heels, drawing closer until he pushed more force, more energy, into his legs. His muscles burned, becoming molten, but he denied them rest as he careened onto the floor below. ‘Connor’. Lewis was already headed towards the staircase as they jumped free, Jamie at his side. Her eyes were wide, scared, but his was locked to their surroundings vigilant, watching their backs as they paused.